


Nicholas Hunt

by kashaminami



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Camp Half-Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, Nico-centric, Not A Fix-It, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spoilers, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 60,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashaminami/pseuds/kashaminami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They won the war and diverted the apocalypse only to be wiped out by another unexpected apocalypse. Nico was dead… until the personification of Time brought him back to life then, sent him to the past with orders to, "Find the one responsible for the end of the world and stop him." Easier said than done, Chronos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. his revival

**Author's Note:**

> First ever fic posted on AO3...!  
> I've had an AO3 account for a little over a year, but this is my first time using it. And I'm still not used to how it works, so bear with me...

Prologue – his revival

Nico groggily opened his eyes and regretted the action almost immediately. It was so bright!

"Urgh!" he groaned as his eyes slowly – painfully – adjusted to the light. He blinked a few times before he remembered…

Dead people didn't need to blink.

He was dead. Or, well, he was supposed to be.

"This is him?" Nico heard someone say in distaste. Then, he felt something hard jab his ribs. "He is a lot… smaller than I expected."

"Is he still alive?" a voice softer than the first asked. This time, he felt something thin poke his back gently.

"I do not know," the first person spoke again. "It's so difficult to tell with mortals..." Nico felt something – that he was starting to suspect to be a foot – jab his ribs again. "He looks dead, but-"

"Chronos, stop kicking him," the second voice cut in sternly.

Wait, Kronos!

Nico groaned again – louder, this time, and with a heavier dose of exasperation. He thought being dead meant that he wouldn't have to deal with anymore life-related drama.

He felt someone – (Kronos!) – kick him again.

Ow!

"Chronos…"

"I was just making sure that he was still alive!"

Yes, Nico's eyes were open and he was really fighting the urge to close them again and sleep. He sat up, slowly and reluctantly. He felt like he'd shadow travelled around the world a hundred times over while starving and transporting a dozen obese elephants with him.

Okay… so that may have been an exaggeration. He only had to travel half-way across the globe and he wasn't exactly starving, just underfed. And instead of twelve fat elephants, he only had to transport himself, a half-goat man, a Reyna, oh and an Athena Parthenos.

So, really no one could blame him for passing out afterwards.

…No, that's not right. He didn't just pass out. Shadow travelling had always been one of his most taxing abilities. The fact that he had been able to deliver Reyna, Coach Hedge and the entire Athena Parthenos back to camp in once piece was an impressive feat in of itself. To do it while he was still recovering from his trip to Tartarus was nothing short of a gods' damned miracle. He had to use every drop of energy he had left in his sickly body, so naturally at the end of it he would have…

"…died," he spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, judging by how dry his throat felt. "I died," strangely, this revelation didn't surprise him one bit, "after… I shadow travelled and… and, then…"

"And then the Seven Half-bloods of the prophecy defeated Gaea and won the war," one of the unknown beings said in a monotone drawl, like the achievement was no big deal. "But, while everyone was busy with Gaea, another powerful baddy was getting busy and killed everyone with an army of monsters while the gods and heroes were occupied with the victory party."

"What?" he asked incredulously. He would have shrieked or yelled in disbelief (because seriously WHAT), but his throat was too sore for that. "That can't b-" he shook his head. "But, Percy and- and Hazel and the others…! The Prophecy of Seven…!"Then, they went through all of that – fought two wars and averted apocalypse after apocalypse – for nothing! They defeated Gaea and her army of Giants only to be killed by another army?!

"Mentioned nothing of the other Big Bad," the same person finished. "He caught everyone – Greek and Roman – by surprise."

Nico finally looked up and studied his surroundings. He was lying on what appeared to be… a slab of broken cement. Around him, pieces of buildings and cars and trees and everything else you could think of lay scattered in a chaotic mess as far as the eye could see. Strangely, there was no sound. Everything was quiet.

Then, he took in the others.

One was a small boy with curly brown hair and deep dark eyes. He was very young and he was standing over Nico with his head tilted and his eyes narrowed curiously. He was wearing open toed sandals and a white toga – it was Ancient Greek garb, something Nico had seen many of the gods wear before.

The other person was a woman – more like a teen really. She was different from the other in many ways. For one thing, she seemed to be translucent, like much like the spiris Nico spent a lot of his time with. She was wearing – strangely enough – a dark green European dress. It was a very old dress too, like something you'd see people wearing at a Renaissance Fair or during the actual Renaissance. Her hair was long and blonde, left untied to cascade down her back in golden curls.

Huh, Nico's never seen any god – Greek or Roman – wear an outfit like that before.

With so many questions swimming through his head, he felt like he should ask the first one to properly form in his mind. "Why is this place so quiet?" It was a testament to how greatly confused he was if that was the first question he could properly ask.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" the boy – who had kicked Nico earlier and who he was now suspecting to be a younger version of his paternal grandfather, if the name he'd been called was anything to go by – asked in return, completely ignoring Nico's earlier question.

Somehow, Nico felt like he really didn't want to know the answer to that question, but he answered the boy-titan-god-whatever anyway. "No," he said as he continued to observe his surroundings. He didn't recognize anything here – which was completely understandable since the only time he'd seen so many destroyed buildings in one place was during the war against Kronos and the Titans.

"This is New York," the ghost-like lady answered. "Three years after that… that being launched his first attack."

Nico was sure that his heart stopped beating for a second. The blood in his veins grew cold. He had been right. He didn't want to know the answer. He felt like he was going to throw up.

It can't be…!

If this was New York, then what did the rest of America look like?

What happened to Mount Olympus and the gods now that the Empire State Building was gone?

What happened to Camp Half-Blood, to Camp Jupiter and all of the campers?

What about Hazel and Jason and Annabeth? What happened to them?

What happened to Percy?

"Where is everyone…?" he asked with heavy dread. He didn't want to know the answer to that question either. The fact that he could not a sense a single Life Aura anywhere was enough to answer that question.

This was the result of one god, giant… being… whatever! One being (because they had only mentioned one 'bad guy') had been enough to do this much in just three years! Why didn't anyone do something?! Why did no one stop him?!

No, wait… Nico knew why. They said that this happened immediately after the Giant War. The demigods must have been too tired from the battle. And they did say that the gods had been too busy (probably too relieved) to see the attack coming-

"Why didn't anyone see it coming?" he asked out loud.

"The first attacked happened in London," the boy answered. "London is," the boy took a moment to glance at their surrounding, "well, was the epicenter of many pantheons at one point in time or another. The Greek and Roman gods weren't the only ones to have influence and power there. The Olympians must have sensed that something was amiss in London, however with the imminent war against the giants they were facing, they must not have given it much thought."

Okay, setting aside the shock at learning that there was such a thing as other pantheons out there (Nico wasn't too surprised, he'd used up most of it when he learned of the existence of the Romans), Nico asked with disbelief, "If they knew that something was wrong, couldn't they have just sent someone to check things out in London? You know, to see if it was anything bad, just in case?" Although he knew whining about what could have been done was pointless now that it had happened, Nico couldn't help but wonder.

"They must have assumed that another pantheon was the cause of it." Seeing that Nico was about to ask some other ridiculous (to Chronos) question, the boy quickly explained. "No divine being is allowed to ever meddle in the affairs of other pantheons. It is every pantheons most absolute law. The consequences would be dire. In the past, many gods have faded or been consumed by their more powerful counterparts because of this. Their followers would wage war with one another to prove that their own gods were better than any of the others. Take the disaster that happened between the Greek and Roman demigods for example."

That might have happened some thousands of years ago, Nico argued in his head, but the world's changed. This time, there was no disaster. There had been no war between the Greek and Roman demigods. Sure, it was a close call, but Nico and Reyna had arrived and stopped them in time. And if they did win the war, then that must have meant that Reyna had somehow been able to convince all of them to work together.

"Well, that was the case," the boy amended, as if reading Nico's thoughts, "until the war against Gaea. I have to say even I was amazed to see the Romans and the Greeks fighting together as allies. I have seen many wars in my existence, but this was the first time I saw two different pantheons working together so flawlessly …Not that it did them any good, seeing as they all got wiped out in the end."

"…Why am I here?" he asked quietly, his energy sapped from the information overload. "Why am I alive again? Did you bring me here just to show me all of this? What for? Why…?"

He didn't want to be alive again. He was fine with being dead. He had welcomed it, in fact. He was a Son of Hades. He'd been to the Underworld plenty of times. Death was nothing new to him.

Death was peaceful, easy. Death meant that he could leave all of his life-associated worries behind. Death meant that he could see his mother again.

More importantly, death meant moving on… moving on from life, from love, from everything that was hurting him. It was his chance at a fresh start.

"You're here," the boy, "because it's easier to convince you if you saw the consequences for yourself."

"…Convince me of what?" he asked slowly.

"We're trying to convince you to travel back in time and prevent this," he gestured to the ruined land around them, "from happening."

"…What?" Nico asked just as slowly, as if he wasn't sure of what he'd heard. They wanted him to travel back in time (he didn't even know that was even possible) and do what? But, "Why me?"

Really, why? What could he do to stop the apocalypse? He was no powerful hero. Sure, he was one of the children of the Big Three, but he was nothing like the heroic Percy Jackson and Jason Grace. He wasn't a leader like Thalia and it was no secret that everyone liked his sisters more. He was just Nico, the dark and creepy-

"-Son of Hades," his thoughts were unexpectedly finished by the ghost-lady. "It is because you are a Son of Hades that we chose you."

Okay, let's add 'getting chosen for an impossible quest' to his personal List of Reasons Why I Hate Being a Son of Hades.

"Hey, don't look at us like that," Chronos said gruffly. "It's not like we decided to choose you on a whim. It took us three years to make our choice."

"How would being a Son of Hades make anyone think that I have any chances of stopping the world from ending?" he asked incredulously.

"We have many other reasons on why we chose you. It's not just that," the boy said. "You're also Hades' most powerful offspring to be born in the past five hundred years."

"I'm still not getting it," he snapped. What they were asking him to do was beyond anything he had ever done in his life. The impossibility scale of this beat 'Surviving Tartarus' by a few dozen points, at the very least. "And Hazel could be a lot stronger than I am, if she had more time training her powers," he defended his sister.

"But her powers aren't the same as yours," the boy opposed. "Your powers control the death aspect of Hades' powers. It has to be you."

"That… being," the ghost-lady said, having a hard time finding the right pronoun to describe the destroyer of the world, "has a very powerful ability." Naturally, she didn't tell him what this great and powerful 'ability' was specifically. But, maybe Nico should count himself lucky. This was the most information he'd been given for any quest he'd ever been on. "As a Child of Hades with influence over death, his powers cannot influence you so easily."

"What exactly is this 'being'?" Nico asked. They could at least tell him that, can't they?

"This being was once a human," she said. "Now he could be called nothing else but a monster. He lost his humanity when he stole a weapon of the gods."

Wow, he'd heard of gods losing their stuff or having it stolen, but it was usually another god (or a demigod) that's to blame. He'd never heard of a normal human pulling a stunt like that.

"Well, technically what he did couldn't be considered stealing since that thing didn't have an owner anymore," the boy began to explain. "After its original owner faded, the weapon lost its original form and became nothing more than a deformed tool with a lot of divine power. A human somehow managed to find a way to absorb all of that power into his body and use it for his own purposes. But he soon learned that a human's weak body could not withstand such immense power for long. So, he somehow found a way to turn himself immortal which consequently lead to him losing his humanity."

"This has nothing to do with the Greeks or Romans, does it?" Nico asked. "The god this weapon belongs to is probably from some other pantheon, right?" he guessed.

"Yes," the woman confirmed.

"Then what do you need me for?" he asked. "Didn't he," Nico pointed to the boy, "just say that the different pantheons weren't supposed to meddle with each other's' affairs? Why can't those gods ask one of their followers or champions to stop this guy?" he tried convincing them.

"But there are no followers!" the woman exclaimed, like she had repeated this argument hundreds of times already. "There are no champions and there is no god!"

"Wha-?"

"The gods of my pantheon have long since faded," the woman said devastatingly. "We don't have demigod children to rely on. No one believes in the gods anymore. And with no one to believe and rely on us, we lost our power and disappeared with the dawn of the New World. With the god's end, the weapon lost its master. It is no surprise that a mere human was able to get his filthy hands on it so easily.

"There is no one else," she said desperately. "You are our- the world's only hope!"

Yeah, no pressure or anything…

And she said 'we' and 'us'… so she's…

"First off, technically, I said 'no divine being was allowed to meddle'. And I did add that it all changed since the Greek and Roman pantheons worked together in the Giant War. Second of all, you see, we'd love to get someone else for this job, if we could," the boy said. "I mean, you don't exactly look like the most reliable demigod in existence." He kicked Nico's skinny frame to prove his point. "But, the problem is we can't.

"The gods of her pantheon are all either dead or dying," he said as he – rudely – pointed at the woman. "Because of the blood flowing through your veins, you're the only one who can come into contact with this weapon without disintegrating." Nico's throat went dry at the mental image that description brought. "This means, you're the only one with a chance of extracting the weapon from him."

Nico took a few long moments (and deep breaths) to absorb all of this.

So someone named Kronos and a goddess from another pantheon (he was still wrapping his head around that) had somehow brought him back to life three years after his death and they tell him that they want him to return to the past to prevent the end of the world…

Naturally, Nico had a lot of questions to ask.

"Why are you asking me?" he asked the younger looking boy. "I thought you hated demigods, especially after all the stuff that's happened in the last Titan War."

The boy blinked in confusion for a few seconds before realization dawned on his face. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Son of Hades, I'm afraid that you're mistaking me for someone else. I am Chronos, the primordial god of time," he clarified, "not Kronos, the Titan lord of time. Unlike the Titan Kronos who has the power to influence time, I am the personification of time itself."

Nico blanched. A primordial god? Like Gaea?

"…Okay," he said slowly. Deep breaths, Nico. You're a demigod, you've dealt with the impossible and unlikely hundreds of times before. Just remember to take deep breaths. "And you are?" This time he asked the woman.

"Someone who wants to prevent the world from ending," she answered evasively.

Alright, then. "Are you guys the only ones in on this?" Nico asked. "Do any of the other gods – Greek, Roman or otherwise – know about this plan?"

"Chaos knows," not-Kronos answered without hesitation. "Other than that, no one but us has any knowledge of this. When you return to the past, unless you do anything drastic, the other gods won't be able to identify anything out of the ordinary about you."

"Next question," Nico said. "If I decided to do this," (He probably will, but they didn't need to know that yet), "and go back in time then does mean that I'll be able to change-?"

He hadn't even finished the question before the Greek primordial cut in. "You're only objective is to prevent the world's destruction," he said sternly. Then, he sighed, "Whatever you decide to do after that will be your choice."

Nico's mind whirred. There were a lot of things he wanted to change, so many disasters he wanted to prevent. If he could-!

"However," the boy interrupted Nico's thoughts. "You should know that Fate cannot be altered without a price. By just sending you back, we would change the lives and Fates of many people," the boy's expression turned grim, as if he could currently see exactly what the consequences of this were. "And not all of it will be for the better.

"Keep in mind that some things are meant to happen," he continued solemnly, "for better or worse."

Nico gulped.

"Besides" he said in a slightly lighter tone. "We won't just be sending you to the past, we'll also be sending you to London, where everything began," he revealed. "London is also where that being conducts most of plans. It will be easier for you to keep track of his actions if you were in London instead of America."

Okay, Nico had to admit that although it made sense to do that, it would also make it very hard for him to make the changes he wanted if he were in a different country.

"In London, you will meet someone with deep ties to that man and his plans," the woman said "That is as far as our influence can reach. Everything else that comes after that will be up to you."

"Before you ask any more questions," Chronos cut in. "What have you decided?"

Nico knew what Chronos was asking.

"Will you do it, Son of Hades? Will you return to the past and save the world?"

Nico's decision had been made for a while now – since he opened his eyes and saw the destruction that lay around him.

"I'll do it."

Sure, Nico would be the first to say that this world wasn't perfect – not with the kind of gods that were currently ruling it – but that didn't mean he wanted to see it end.

Nico took another look at his surroundings.

He would do whatever it took to prevent this. Even if he ended up failing, he wanted to at least try.

The translucent woman smiled.

He would do everything he could to save the world. He had to. After all, he lived in this world. And so did Hazel and his father… Percy too.

He didn't want any of them to die.

Chronos let out a relieved sigh and grinned.

"Then, what are we waiting for?!" Chronos exclaimed excitedly in an obviously fake British accent. "Come on, no more dilly-dallying! You've got a cab to catch!"

Nico passed out.

xXXx

When Nico woke up, he heard blaring horns all around him. He felt hard tarmac against his palms and knees and his head felt like something hard and heavy had rammed into it.

Then, something hard and heavy rammed into his side.

And Nico passed out again.


	2. big brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico's new life comes with a new family member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, I know little to nothing about London, its schools or its people and I don't know much of the difference between British and American English.
> 
> Disclaimer: any characters or setting you may recognize in this story does not belong to me.
> 
> Questions, comments, reviews and constructive criticism is more than welcome. No flames, please. if you find something you don't like about this story either find a way to tell me nicely or stop reading it all together.
> 
> This chapter will have alternating POVs between Nico and Aden.

“Found you!” a boy exclaimed in an irritatingly cheerful manner. The boy was with reddish-brown hair and a long scar running up his right arm.

“Finally.” The younger boy huffed in annoyance. “We’ve been playing this game for hours. Can’t we play something else?”

“But we’ve only played three rounds!” the older one loudly objected.

“And I’ve been hiding for all three,” he said. “Can I be ‘it’ now?”

“No.” The objection continued. “It’s no fun when I’m ‘it’. You always manage to find me in less than ten seconds.”

“But when you’re ‘it’ you take at least an hour to find me.”

“That’s because you’re really good at hiding.”

“Or it could be because you’re really bad at Hide-‘n-Seek.”

This wasn’t the first time the two ‘brothers’ had this discussion.

Ever since the younger boy arrived at the orphanage two months ago, the older one had stuck to him like glue. He soon found out that the younger boy was a grim and mysterious individual who treasured solitude above everything else. This was a great contrast to the older boy’s friendly and optimistic personality.

Aden Hunt, like the rest of the orphans, had heard of the fascinating story of how the small boy had ended up in their homey little orphanage. He had been found in the middle of the road under a cab – thankfully, alive – and when questioned, the cabbie and most of the other drivers swore that the boy had literally ‘appeared out of thin air’.

After spending a week laid up in the hospital, the boy had been brought to their orphanage with a broken arm and amnesia. The authorities had done everything they could but they could find no records of anyone – missing or otherwise – in the international database matching the boy’s description, so they decided to just dump him in the foster system and see where things went from there.

Everyone had tried to talk to the little ten-year-old with the American accent, but the boy had made it perfectly clear that he had no desire to make friends. While this quickly discouraged most of the children, Aden refused to give up.

After weeks of pestering and stalking – as the younger boy had called it – Aden somehow managed to get himself identified as the loner’s only friend. Well, ‘friend’ was a word the younger boy used to describe the other, but Aden would always introduce them – to anyone who asked – as brothers.

He was Aden Hunt and the other was his little brother, Nicholas Hunt.

xXXx

During a game of Hide-‘n-Seek they had been playing with the younger children, Aden quickly realized that Nicholas – or Nico, as he preferred to be called – was very good at the ‘Hide’ part of the game. His low presence and small stature gave him a great advantage in the game. Although the rest of the children were quick to give up and admit defeat, Aden kept searching. His adventurous nature found much fun in turning the orphanage upside down trying to find his little brother.

It was soon that Aden would ask Nico to play endless rounds of Hide-‘n-Seek with him – with Aden he one always seeking and Nico constantly the one hiding. Nico didn’t mind at first. Aden always took his time looking for Nico – his saint-like patience and stubborn refusal to admit defeat playing a large factor. Nico always took the opportunity to think ( _About the past and the new unknown future. About the gods and the monsters that he knew were out there. About his friends, his family and his unrequited love_ ) or to practice using his powers by making the shadows dance and change shape or sometimes to nap. But with his ADHD, the time travelling demigod was quick to bore of the game.

“You’re supposed to be thirteen,” Nico sighed after the fourth round of playing (this time, it took Aden an hour and seven minutes to find him). “Why do you like playing this game so much?”

They – like the rest of the orphans – were headed downstairs towards the dining hall for dinner. Nico had agreed to play that last round only after Aden promised that he would read Nico a book of his choosing after lunch.

Nico actually enjoyed having Aden read to him. His narrations gave the story an extra dramatic effect and made everything more life-like. And Aden liked reading to Nico. He was a big fan of classic English literature. Every month he would obsess over one specific author. He would borrow and read all of their works from the local library, read it to Nico and recite quotes from the books after memorizing them by heart.

Aden paused at the bottom of the steps as two five year olds tumbled in front of him from the TV room across the dining hall.

“Because my dad and I used to play it all the time when I was younger,” Aden confessed sheepishly.

xXXx

“You got a letter?” Nico peeked over Aden’s shoulder curiously one morning after breakfast. They were sitting on Aden’s bed with Aden holding onto the thick envelope one of the orphanage wardens had given to him at breakfast.

“That’s right,” Aden said as he pried the letter open with uncharacteristic care.

“Who’s it from?” Nico asked, being unusually nosy. He’d never seen an actual letter before, least of all receive one. It was because everyone he knew could all be contacted through rainbows and dreams, so there was never any need for writing letters. His dyslexia was also a major contributing factor.

“Rei Butler,” Aden said, showing Nico the name written on the top left corner. “You wouldn’t know her. She lived in the orphanage a few years ago for a week before her aunt and uncle took custody of her and brought her with them back to Japan.” Aden smiled as he took out a few sheets of folded paper from the stuffed envelope. Nico was amazed to see the paper covered in words written in black ink on the front and back of every sheet.

“She’s a few years older than I am. But she’s really great!” Aden blushed almost as soon as the words left his mouth. “Well, you know… for a girl.”

Nico smirked. “So, is she your girlfriend?” he asked bluntly.

Aden’s blush deepened and his attempt at a response came out flustered and unintelligible. “No! That is… We’re not-!”

“Yeah, probably,” Nico agreed unexpectedly as he got off the bed. “There’s no way someone like _you_ could ever bag an older chick this gorgeous.” Nico picked up a photo from the floor that fell out of the envelope.

The photo showed a beautiful girl with shoulder length black hair and pretty brown eyes. She was wearing a grey coat and pink skirt. She was smiling widely and standing between two short trees with red leaves and more colorful leaves under her feet. At the bottom of the photo, written in black marker was the greeting: ‘Wishing you a Happy Autumn Season from Japan’.

Nico’s eyebrows rose as he studied the picture. He had to give Aden props. He’s got great taste in women as far as looks were concerned.

“Nico!” Aden exclaimed with mortification. His face was as beet red now. “G-Give me that!”

Nico’s amused smirk didn’t disappear for the whole week. That was exactly how long he teased Aden about his ‘girlfriend’. He only stopped when Aden threatened to never read another story to him ever again.

Oh well. Nico could always tease him again the next time a letter from Rei Butler arrived in their mailbox.

xXXx

Nico panted and huffed as he shifted uncomfortably under the pile of blankets. His face was flushed scarlet and his skin was burning with a temperature of 40 degrees Celsius.

“Shouldn’ve tried shadow travellin’ yest’rday…” he mumbled. “Now m’sick.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Aden agreed indulgently while he squeezed a wet cloth over a bowl of cold water. His little brother had been spouting nonsense since he woke up that morning with a high fever. Mrs. Matthews had told him that it was only fever induced delirium, nothing to worry about, dear. But Aden was Nico’s brother, he couldn’t help worrying.

“S’not like t’was the firs-s time I tried usin’ m’powers,” he kept mumbling. Aden took a moment to marvel at how uncharacteristically talkative he was being before he placed the wet cloth on Nico’s burning forehead. “But m’still ten. M’powers haven’ fully man-nifestated yet. N’ no control…”

Aden kept nodding in agreement, although with his eyes closed, Nico probably couldn’t see him. He took the bowl of soup he had brought with him from the dresser between his and Nico’s beds and stirred the steaming contents.

“Hades prob’bly doesn’ know m’ here,” Nico continued incoherently. “Maybe he thinks-s m’ still in Lotus… with Bianca…”

“I made soup for you,” Aden told him loudly to get his attention.

He moved to help Nico sit up in his bed. Nico, now that his train of thought had been interrupted, stared at the soup with suspicion. “Wha’sin’nit?” he asked.

“It’s Macbeth Soup.” Aden grinned wickedly and brought a hand to hover over the bowl while the other kept stirring. “With eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog, adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting, lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing.”

“Cool,” Nico said, his flushed skin gaining a green tint. “I don’ wan’nit.”

Aden chuckled. “I’m joking. It’s just normal chicken soup.” Aden handed him the bowl. “Mrs. Regnery taught me how to make it.”

Nico took a cautious sip. He didn’t say anything, but it couldn’t have tasted so bad because he spooned more of it into his mouth.

“Wonder what Percy’s-s doin’,” Nico mumbled after the seventh spoonful of chicken soup. His hands landed on the blanket tiredly. Aden was quick enough to take the bowl away from Nico’s lax fingers before the content’s spilled. “Should be m’age now…”

“Yeah, probably,” Aden said absentmindedly as he took the spoon from Nico too.

“…Aden, y’know?” Nico said quietly, like he was afraid that someone might hear him. Even Aden had to stay as still and silent as possible to hear him. “I r’ly like ‘im…” he revealed. “I like P’rcy a lot.”

To say that Aden was surprised was an understatement. He took a moment to wonder if Nico had ever mentioned anyone named Percy to him. Was it someone from his primary school? It wasn’t a girl, that much Aden was certain.

“Open your mouth,” Aden instructed the delirious boy. He placed a spoonful of soup near Nico’s mouth, since it seemed like the boy wasn’t going to be able to feed himself at the moment.

Nico opened his mouth and Aden fed him the soup.

It wasn’t like Aden had anything against things like that. When one has read as many books as he had, one tends to gain a more open view of the world. It didn’t really make much of a difference to him. Nico was his little brother whether he liked boys or girls or trees.

…Well, that last one might take some time to swallow, but Aden would still accept him in the end.

He was just very shocked. After all, this was the same Nico that not long ago had commented on how gorgeous Aden’s friend, Rei was …Not that Aden himself didn’t think that Rei was beautiful! It was just… that um…!

…Anyway, behind the shock, a small part of Aden couldn’t help but feel glad. Nico had always been a very mysterious little boy and Aden couldn’t help but feel like there was a lot that his little brother wasn’t telling him. To have Nico tell him something like this – even if it was just the result of fever induced delirium – made Aden think that Nico was finally opening up to him, even if it was only a little bit.

But, then there was always the chance that Nico was only mumbling nonsense again and this boy named Percy had never really existed…

Noticing that Nico was staring at him very intently – his dark eyes were roaming Aden’s face to gouge his reaction – Aden decided to let Nico continue talking.

“What is it about Percy that you like so much?” he asked.

“He’s-s nice,” Nico slurred without hesitation. “And brave ‘nd strong. Percy’s-s a real live hero, saved m’ life tons o’ times-s… nd’ he’s-s loyal to a fault…”

Aden nodded in approval. This Percy character – real or not – sounded like a good person so far.

“He doesn’ care th-at m’ a Son o’ Hades-s…” Nico mumbled sleepily while his eyes drooped tiredly. “He only cares-s ‘bout me ‘coz… I’m Nico.”

Aden noted that Nico hadn’t said anything about Percy being handsome or… ‘gorgeous’. He took a second to mull over that. Maybe it wasn’t that Nico liked boys in general, maybe he only liked this one specific boy, Percy.

Aw, his little brother was in love.

How precious.

“Have you ever told Percy that you love him?” Aden asked with a bright smile as he helped Nico lie down again, now that it seemed like he was too sleepy to finish the soup. Well, Aden didn’t make very much in the first place, he could always finish the rest himself later.

“No.” Nico sighed and closed his eyes. “‘Coz Percy loves-s Anna-beth. But I don’ mind… much,” he admitted. “I’m happy s’long as he’s happy… I _should_ be hap-py…”

“Love sought is good,” Aden quoted. “But given unsought is better.”

“You really need t’ move on fr’m Shakes-spear…” Nico mumbled, recognizing the quote despite being already half-asleep.

“Maybe next week,” Aden told him. “Right after I finish reading The Tempest.” _...For the fifth time._

“I r’lly like that one,” Nico said. “Read it to me…?”

“Well, alright,” Aden conceded. He plucked the book from the nightstand and searched for the page he’d last read to Nico and continued from there, despite knowing that Nico would fall asleep before he was through with the first page.

xXXx

“So, you don’t even know when you’re birthday is?” Aden cried with disbelief one day during lunch, garnering the attention of some of the other orphans eating near them.

According to the story he had told the authorities, Nico didn’t remember anything about himself – not his past, his family or even how he ended up in the middle of the street and in front of that cab – except for his name, Nico.

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re joking!” Aden exclaimed.

“No, I’m not,” Nico replied evenly.

Aden’s eyes and mouth remained wide open in shock.

It made Nico uncomfortable. He shifted under the shade of the apple tree. He was tempted to engulf himself in the apple tree’s shadow and disappear to China.

He never really liked being stared at for too long. Especially when it involved the person staring at him thinking that he was creepy or unusual in any way. Like right now.

Aden was the only friend Nico had here (well, the only friend he would willingly admit to having), and he didn’t want that to stop or for Aden to start looking at him like there was something wrong with him.

“W-Well,” he tried to remedy the situation. “The system put down my date of birth as the day I got run over by that cab. I- I think that counts as a birthday…” he mumbled.

Aden’s mouth snapped shut and he looked away sheepishly. He must have just realized that his staring was making the younger boy uncomfortable. “So, May 16th then…” He thought back to that day. How he’d returned to the orphanage, excitedly anticipating the summer break that was right around the corner, only to end up shaking with more excitement at the announcement of the new boy arriving at their small home later that evening.

Aden took a second to think.

Nico took a bite of his apple.

“Now that just won’t do,” Aden announced as he stood up in front of Nico. “Why don’t we change it to...September 9th!” he said excitedly, like he’d just suggested the greatest idea since flat bread.

“What for?” Nico asked with his brows furrowed and his mouth full of fruit. “And why does it have to be _that_ date?”

“Because that’s _my_ birthday!” he answered easily as he sat back down, but this time he was facing Nico. “Firstly, you’re too pale to have been born during the summer.” Nico’s brows furrowed further with confusion, showing Aden exactly how much sense he was making. “Secondly, if we have the same birthday then you’ll have to give me a birthday present every year because you can never say that you forgot when my birthday is.”

Nico snorted with amusement.

“And finally,” Aden said with a smile, “if we have the same birthday, then that would mean that we were born on the exact same day. It would make us real brothers, like twins!”

Nico smiled too and shook his head with disbelief. It seemed that Aden still hasn’t given up on making Nico his little brother. Sure, they might have the same eye color – even that was hard to tell with Aden’s thick glasses in the way – and they were both quite small for their age, but that was as far as similarities went. Aden’s hair was a light reddish brown compared to Nico’s dark chocolate shaggy locks and his skin had a rosy tint to it and looked healthier than Nico’s pasty complexion.

“We can’t be twins,” he said logically. “You’re _years_ older than I am.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Aden’s shoulders hunched dejectedly. “You make it sound like I’m thirty years older than you… when it’s actually the other way around.”

“Excuse me?” Nico gaped with indignation. Forget the fact that he technically was an eighty-year-old man. Physically, Nico was still young, supple and _ten_.

“Well, with the way you act, I wouldn’t be surprised if you truly are thirty years older,” Aden giggled.

“I’m just really mature for my age,” Nico insisted playfully.

They continued bantering with each other under the apple tree long after their lunches were finished.

Next month, early September, the orphanage threw a small party for the orphans whose birthday was in the month of September. There were three cakes, one for two of the three orphans. The first cake was heart shaped and strawberry flavored, for a little girl named Sarah. The second cake, a small square carrot cake, had “Aden 14” written in blue icing. The other cake, small and round and chocolate, read: “Nicholas 11”.

xXXx

Aden crossed his arms and looked down at Nico with an unreadable expression.

Nico shifted in his seat uncomfortably under the older boy’s gaze. The girl behind him clutched at the straps of Nico’s blue backpack and occasionally stole nervous glances at the two brothers. Another girl with a blossoming bruise on her cheek was sitting grumpily in a seat far away from the trio.

On the other side of the glass door, they could see one of the caretakers of the orphanage, the first girl’s father, a man in an expensive suit and a strict looking teacher talking – quite loudly – to the school’s headmistress.

“No one was hurt-”

“But they _could_ have been!”

“Please, lower your voice. The children are just outside-”

“The _fire brigade_ had to be called in-!”

“I don’t understand why my daughter has to be here. It’s not like she was the one who started-”

“A witness saw her in the classroom just before the fi-”

“ _A_ witness? Just _one_? And how do we know that this ‘witness’ isn’t the true culprit-!”

“Mr. Henricksen, _please_ -”

“Now, now. Let’s all just stay calm…”

“She’s _hurt_! That rotten little menace _punched_ my little girl in the _face_!”

Aden sighed and stopped pretending to be mad. He dropped to his knees in front of Nico and looked at him with concern. “Are you alright?”

“M’ fine…” Nico mumbled. His eyes were downcast and focusing on the knuckles of his right hand.

“What happened?” Aden asked him.

“You _know_ what happened,” Nico said almost accusingly. “That’s why you’re here.”

“I’m _here_ ,” Aden said with a tinge of impatience. “Because Jamie told me that Mrs. Atwood was called to your school about a _fire_. I rushed here because I thought that you were _hurt_ , Nico.” Nico grimaced. You knew Aden meant business when he began to emphasize a word in every sentence he spoke. “Now tell me _what the bloody hell happened_ ,” Aden said with a raised voice. He forcefully recollected himself when he saw the two children in front of him grimace. “Please,” he begged.

“Don’ be mad at ‘im,” the girl pleaded timidly. Her big blue eyes were watery with tears. “S’ _my_ fault. My bag caught on fire ‘nd almost _killed_ everyone.” She whimpered.

“How did _that_ happen?” Aden asked dubiously. Bags don’t just _catch on fire_ for no reason.

“ _Someone_ put matches and a lighter in her bag,” Nico growled out an answer while his dark piercing eyes moved to glare at the only other girl in the room.

Aden took a critical glance at her too. Then, he turned to Nico. “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully. It wasn’t that he doubted that his little brother was telling the truth. Aden just knew how good Nico was at _concealing_ it.

“Yes, I saw her,” Nico insisted.

“From what I heard, the fire started during break,” Aden said. It was usual for most schools to forbid students from staying inside the classrooms during break because a lot of things could happen. If anything from the classrooms were to go missing while the most of the students were eating outside, then the students who remained inside the classrooms were to be treated as suspects and potential-culprits – which was what was happening now. He could understand that the timid red-head was here because it was _her_ bag that went up in flames, but why were Nico and the girl called here too?

“Yeah, she put the stuff in Courtney’s bag while everyone was out of the classroom,” Nico said. “I saw her,” he repeated.

“When did you see her?” Aden asked. “Were you in the classroom too?” It made sense. If Nico did catch her in the act, then he would have to have been somewhere near by to see her. But then that would mean that he must have been in the classroom too – while everyone else was outside. This would not only make him the only witness, but also the only other suspect.

“Nico, what were you doing in the classroom during break?” Aden asked after a few seconds of silence.

“…homework,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” Aden asked.

Nico sighed. “I forgot to do my History homework last night,” he explained. “And we have History after break. I ran to the classroom to get my homework from my bag. That was when I saw her there.

“I thought Alice was just getting something too. She sits right next to Courtney, so I didn’t notice that it was Courtney’s bag she was going through, not her own. It was only later when the fire started that I realized what she’d done.”

“After the fire brigade came,” Courtney said quickly, gaining some confidence now that Aden seemed calmer, “and told everyone that the fire started from my seat, Nico tried to tell the teachers that it wasn’t my fault. Then, Alice and her friends told everyone not to believe him. Nico got mad and punched her in the face.”

So, that’s where the bruise came from, Aden thought. And whatever happened to the ‘no hitting girls’ rule? Did kids these days not care about rules like that or was it just Nico?

“What did you expect me to do?” Nico asked. “She was lying to everyone, she was going to get Courtney into trouble and that stunt she pulled could’ve really hurt someone.”

Alice, who apparently had enough of letting someone talk about her while she was still in the same room, stood up and began shouting. “The only one who got hurt was _me_! You _hit_ me!”

Her yelling made Courtney flinch and Nico seethe. “Only because you were lying to everyone! _You_ started the fire! I _saw_ you!”

“Oh, yeah! Then, _prove it_!” Alice shot back. “The fire started from _her_ bag!” She pointed a finger to Courtney who retaliated by hiding behind Nico. “The firemen said so! It was _her_ fault! And you-!”

“That’s enough, Alice,” a deep voice sternly cut in.

The children turned towards the door leading into the headmistress’s office and saw all of the adults standing at her doorway. The one who spoke was the teacher.

“The three of you,” the headmistress said pointing to each of her students in turn. “In my office. Now.”

Aden stood up and watched as all three – nervous, angry and scared – trudged into her office while their parents and guardians waited outside.

Mrs. Atwood stood next to him. “What are you smiling about?” she asked Aden.

“Nothing much,” Aden said, still smiling.

He knew that even if Nico got into trouble for this, Aden would still be proud of him because his little brother got into trouble for doing the right thing. Nico stood up for the truth and for a girl who was too timid to stand up on her own. Aden saw the way the girl looked at him with awe and appreciation. Even if he made an enemy of that Alice girl, Nico would walk out with Courtney as a friend who viewed him as her hero.

Just the thought of it made Aden giddy.

At the end of the day, Courtney got off without any punishment, Alice got expelled and Nico got suspended for three days for physically assaulting another student. Apparently, that wasn’t the first time Nico or Alice was brought to the headmistress’s office.

Alice was called there twice before that year for because she and her friends were caught bullying other girls like Courtney, however this was the first time she almost set one her victims on fire (Apparently, the original plan had been to plant the objects in Courtney’s bag for the teachers to find during the inspection they were to have after break. The ensuing commotion would give Alice enough time to hide her new phone – which she brought to school to show off – from the teachers). She had only got off with warnings before because the cases were never more serious than verbal abuse and pushing them around. Also because she had the best grades in her year and her father was on the school board.

Nico got called there at least once a month to have tea with the headmistress during break. Apparently, she has a daughter with ADHD and dyslexia like Nico and she liked to call him there to get to know him better and ask him how he was doing in school. She had a better liking of Nico, so naturally she took his side over Alice’s.

When they got home, Aden gave him a pat on the back for doing the right thing…

…and a slap on the wrist for hitting a girl. He gave his little brother a stern lecture on how one should _never ever_ hit a girl – no matter how mean she was. Then, Nico countered by asking what if she had tried to kill someone, could he hit the girl then? This just opened up a debate that went on for the rest of the evening and late into the night.

xXXx

On a heavily raining evening, Aden was standing under the awning of a small sandwich shop, waiting for the rain to let up enough to allow him to run back to orphanage.

Aden had spent the last two hours practicing with his debate team for the competition coming up next week. They had a new addition to the team this year. The lad was an inexperienced amateur, but he was excellent at spotting the holes in other people’s points and made good POIs. Aden was fairly confident that their team could at least make it to the semi-finals this year.

“ _Achoo_!”

Aden took a moment to process the sound. It sounded very familiar…

 _Sniff_! “ _Achoo_!”

Ah, now he recognized it. It actually surprised him how long it took for him to identify the owner of the voice.

“Nico!” he called out into the rain. He looked left and right, but he couldn’t see his little brother anywhere. That was strange. He was sure that Nico was somewhere close by. If not, then he wouldn’t have been able to hear him so clearly with the heavy rain.

 _Sniff_!

“Nico!” Aden called out again as he took a risk and unthinkingly walked out from under the awning and into the rain. He walked to the left, towards the corner of the street and to the other side of the building.

And, as he expected, there was Nico. It was his little brother with his dark blue secondary school uniform drenched and sticking to his tiny thin frame. He was crouched over the drain, his head down and his school bag over his head, futilely trying to shield himself from the rain.

 _No…_ Aden took a better look through the pouring rain. _It wasn’t that…_ Nico was trying to shield something else from the rain.

Aden walked closer to him and touched his cold shoulder to alert the younger boy of his presence, although he was sure that Nico had known he was there all along. Aden doubted that anyone could ever really sneak up on Nico.

Aden looked over Nico’s shoulder and saw something small and furry lying on the rusted bars of the drain.

It was a kitten. It was very small, probably wasn’t even a month old.

Its fur was thin and wet from the rain. The patches of skin Aden could see were dark blue and purple. Its mouth was opened and its eyes were closed.

It looked dead.

“What happened to it?” Aden asked Nico curiously, but not unkindly.

“I saw a couple of boys from my school throw rocks at it and kicking it,” Nico answered quietly. “I tried telling them to stop…”

Aden could see that Nico really did try. The blossoming bruise on his cheek and on his right eye was a testament to that. The other boys must have been bigger than he was – Nico wasn’t very big to begin with – but his little brother still tried saving the helpless creature. Even now…

Aden took a moment to wonder how long Nico had been here, sheltering the dead animal from the rain. And before that, how long had Nico spent trying to protect it from everything else? The rain started just an hour ago, Nico’s school let out two hours before that.

Despite the situation, Aden could feel a small smile stretch across his lips. His little brother really was a very kind boy. He hoped that Nico would grow up to become a kind man as well.

“It’s so small…” Nico continued softly. “It must’ve been very young…” A cold and mirthless smile appeared on Nico’s young face. “What a short and worthless life you’ve lead,” he said it like a quote.

Aden kept silent. Although his eyes were on the dead animal, Aden had a feeling that it wasn’t the kitten Nico was talking about.

“One day…” Nico continued, his small shoulders shaking. “I’ll die like this too. Alone… unwanted… _worthless_ life…!” Tears were streaming down his pale cheeks now.

Even though he knew that Nico didn’t like to be touched, Aden still wrapped an arm around him. He felt that Nico needed to be touched now. He needed to be reassured that there was someone there with him.

Despite ‘claiming’ to have no memories of his past, Aden had a feeling that Nico’s life from before he arrived at the orphanage hadn’t been a very good one. It’s been almost a year since the incident with the cab – something that made the papers for a few days – and still no one had stepped up to claim him as their lost loved one.

Unwanted… every orphan felt that way. But at least orphans like Aden knew that they had someone who loved them once before like his parents. Orphans like Nico who knew nothing of their origins had a harder time dealing with the feeling of being unwanted.

But that was what Aden was here for. He was here to reassure Nico that he was needed, that he was necessary and that there would be someone to mourn for him when he was gone.

“There is no such thing as a worthless life,” Aden told him. “My mom taught me that. She said every life is precious and important. Everyone has a purpose in this world. Everything happens for a reason.”

“And once that purpose is served,” Nico continued sardonically with bitter resentment dripping heavily in his words, “you’ll die and be discarded like trash.”

“You’ll die,” Aden agreed to an extent, “without regret, knowing that you’ve done all you can and all you were meant to do.” He wasn’t speaking about his mother’s teachings anymore. This was Aden’s own honest opinion. “If my purpose in life was to be your big brother and teach you all of this, then I’ll gladly let the Grim Reaper take my soul now.”

“I wouldn’t let him,” Nico swore with a sniff. “Not without a fight.”

Aden held him tighter.

“You _are_ wanted, Nico,” Aden said, gently steering the conversation towards a slightly different direction. “ _I_ want you, I need you. Where would I be without my baby brother?

“And you won’t be alone forever,” Aden reassured. “One day, you’re going to have lots of friends who care about you and who you’ll care about in return.” Aden gave him a wide smile. “But until then, I’m afraid you’re stuck with only me, little brother.”

“…Promise?”

“I promise.”

They brought the kitten back to the orphanage with them and Aden buried it under the apple tree. Both of them stayed at home with a cold the next day, but neither could complain about missing school.

xXXx

This, right here, was exactly why Nico hated walking outside with Aden.

“Thank you so much, boys,” an old woman said to Aden (she was the third senior citizen to say that) after he helped her bring her bags of groceries into the cab Nico flagged down. “You’re both so kind.”

“No problem at all, madam,” Aden answered chivalrously with a toothy grin. “We were happy to help.”

Nico grunted accordingly.

After two rounds of Hide-‘n-Seek in the orphanage, Aden had dragged Nico out of his last hiding spot (in the cupboard of their shared room) and out the door for some fresh air.

Not two minutes since entering the busy streets of London, Aden had spotted a lost pet poster and – as a way to have fun with his little brother and satiate his eternal need for something exciting to do – dragged Nico around the large city in search of the missing obese bulldog.

On their search, they had run into an old man (trying to cross the busy street), a little girl (crying with distress after she lost her mother in the crowd), a business man (he dropped his wallet), an orange tabby (it was standing in the middle of the road) and two old women (the first needed help to find her way to the nearest Underground Station Entrance and the second needed help with her heavy groceries).

But there was still no sign of a bulldog.

And Aden, in his usual friendly and considerate manner, had helped each and every one of them.

He helped the old man by stopping the cars (Nico was the one accompanying him across the road). He helped the little girl by locating the nearest constable (Nico was the one who found the girl’s mother pacing worriedly in front of a coffee shop). He returned the business man’s wallet (the man thanked them by giving the boys 5€ each). He helped the tabby by dashing into traffic and snatching it away (Nico didn’t really do anything here). He helped the old women (the first one didn’t need much help, just a good pair of glasses and the other Nico helped by flagging down a cab for her).

In the end, they couldn’t find the dog.

In case it wasn’t obvious enough, Aden really liked helping others.

So, it wasn’t much of a surprise when the topic of ambitions came up the next day during breakfast, Aden had passionately declared that he was going to become a detective for the Metropolitan Police.

“I really like helping people,” Aden explained. Big surprise there. “And if I become a detective, I can solve mysteries for others and put criminals behind bars and-!”

“Defend the innocent and protect the weak,” Nico playfully finished for him after taking a sip of his hot tea.

Aden’s furrowed. “That’s something medieval knights do, not policemen,” he corrected.

“But it’s essentially the same thing, right?” Nico asked.

“I guess,” Aden consented. Then, a grin spread across his face. “You know, Nico,” he said to his little brother. “Defending the weak and protecting the innocent is something _you’re_ better at. Maybe _you_ should become a knight when you grow up.”

Nico sighed into his cup of tea as he thought of his classmate and that depressing rainy afternoon. Sure, he’d _tried_ to help Courtney, but he only ended up getting himself into trouble. And the only reason he tried to help that kitten was because he didn’t like to hear the ringing in his ears that came with the death of a living being – it may also have something to do with the depressing memories of his previous life that had plagued his dreams the night before.

Not that Aden needed to know that. Sure, he saw Aden as more of a brother now, but he just wasn’t ready to reveal that part of his life to him – to _anyone_ – just yet.

“I’m not very good at it,” Nico begged to differ. After all, the kitten still died in the end, didn’t it? “But sure, I’ll become a knight,” he consented jokingly. “But only _after_ you become a detective. Deal?”

“Deal!” Aden agreed, pulling the smaller boy into an unexpected one-armed hug causing Nico to jump and shake the table. That caused Aden’s bowl of cereal to spill and make a mess on the table.

xXXx

Nico gasped as his eyes opened in shock just as the loud booming of thunder rattled the windows next to his bed. He wondered what it was that pissed off Zeus this time.

“Nightmare?”

Nico turned in his bed to face the bed next to him. Lightning flashed from behind the thin curtains, illuminating the concerned face of his ‘brother’.

“…Yeah,” Nico hesitantly admitted. It wouldn’t be his first.

The sound of thunder rattled the windows again.

Nico saw Aden sit up to look at the other boys sleeping in the small room. The beds at the end of each of his and Nico’s were still. It was safe to assume that they were still asleep.

Aden stepped out from underneath his covers and crawled into Nico’s bed. Aden lay on his side, facing Nico but not touching him. He knew that Nico didn’t like to be touched.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked Nico quietly.

Nico stayed silent. His nightmare had been about Percy and Hazel and the rest of the people he had left behind when he died. He dreamt of how hard they must have fought to win the war. Many lives must have been lost. How many of those lives had belonged to his friends?

Then, the dream shifted to a different scene. He saw the battle worn soldiers – tired and weary – being eaten alive by large beasts made of shadows. Then, he saw the gods fighting those beasts and losing.

He saw Hades, Zeus and Poseidon get thrown into Tartarus by a man laughing maniacally while taunting them about how they didn’t deserve to be called gods with how pathetic they were.

He saw Hazel, Jason and the others getting eaten by an ugly beast with seven heads.

He had seen Percy screaming in agony as his skull was crushed by an unknown figure.

Then, Annabeth – with blood and tears streaking her face – turned to him and accused him for the death of Percy and the others.

“ _You said you would always protect him_ ,” she growled. And Nico did. He had sworn to himself long ago that no matter what happens – even if Percy grew to hate him or Nico’s love for him became too painful to bear – Nico would always do everything he can to keep Percy Jackson safe. “ _You could have saved us._ ”

_“Where were you?!”_

“Nico?” Aden called out quietly.

Nico burrowed himself deeper under the covers. He said nothing.

Nico heard Aden sigh before he moved until he was lying on his back with his hands behind his head and his eyes facing the ceiling.

“I can never sleep when it’s raining,” he confessed.

Thankful for the change of subject, Nico asked, “Why?”

“It was raining then too,” Aden said as he brought right hand out from under his head and turned it towards the ceiling. “…the night my parents died.”

Nico kept quiet. He was curious to hear what Aden would say. Aden had told him very little about his biological family (according to Aden, Nico was his family now).

“It was on a night like this,” he said with his scarred arm still up. “I was your age then. I woke up because of the storm and walked down to the kitchen for something to drink. That was when I saw _him_. He was in the kitchen with his back to me. I was scared stiff.

“Then, he turned around and said hello.”

Nico shivered. Sure, he was used to fighting monsters and gods now, but if it had happened to him before the time he was aware that he was a demigod… He could only imagine how scared Aden must have been.

“I don’t really remember much of what happened after that,” Aden continued. “I know that I screamed bloody murder. It must have woken up my parents because they ran down looking for me.

“My dad tried to fight him, but that man was bigger than him. He was stronger too. He did something with his hand… He must have been holding a bomb or grenade or something because then everything exploded…” Aden’s voice trailed off, like he was reliving the horrifying events.

When Aden didn’t talk for a few more seconds, Nico brought his smaller hands up to take hold of Aden’s lifted hand. It helped snap Aden out of whatever trance he had been in. “I was knocked out for a few seconds,” he said without taking his hand out of Nico’s hold. Nico had never initiated any kind of touch between them. He probably didn’t want to bring any attention to their joint hands and scare Nico into letting go.

“When I woke up, I saw my mom’s feet sticking out from under the fridge with a pool of blood under it. And my dad… That _monster_ ,” a shiver accompanied the uttered word, “was still standing without a scratch on him. He had his hand around dad’s head and was lifting him off the ground with one arm… Dad was screaming and writhing in agony. I could’ve sworn I saw his face smoking where the monster’s hand touched…”

“Aden,” Nico cut in when he saw Aden shiver again. When lightning flashed through the curtains again, Nico caught a glimpse of how pale Aden’s face was. Talking about that night was obviously messing with him. “That’s enough, I don’t want to hear anymore,” Nico mumbled with concern and fear – fear for Aden – lacing his words. For once, Nico sounded like the little boy he was supposed to be. His hold on Aden’s hand tightened. He imagined the scar that ran along Aden’s arm and tried not to think about how the older boy probably got it on the night of his parents’ deaths.

Aden turned around so his body was facing their joint hands.

“‘Pray…as you curse your fate’,” Aden mumbled. “The monster said that to me when Dad finally stopped breathing. Then, he _laughed_.

“I got angry. I thought, ‘How dare this monster just stand there and laugh while my parents lay in a pool of their own blood’. I took something from the ground. I don’t really remember what it was, but I think it was a burning piece of wood or something. I tried to hit him with it, but he grabbed my hand and twisted it out of my grip easily.”

Nico saw Aden’s brows furrow as his other hand came up to touch the wrist of the one Nico was holding. “He looked at my hand for a long time. He said mumbled about light and decay and a miracle. ‘Our meeting was Fate,’ he said.”

Aden momentarily gritted his teeth before he said the next part. “He let me go. Then, as the ceiling collapsed around me, he disappeared into the flames, _laughing_ as he left. I’m certain he said, ‘We shall meet again’.”

Nico didn’t say anything. What _could_ he say? That he now regretted not telling Aden about his nightmare?

This was the first time he’d seen Aden so grim and sad. He was obviously still hurting from the deaths of his parents. Nico had never had to comfort anyone before (usually, Percy was the one trying to comfort him about Bianca’s death). He was out of his depth here.

“I hope we do meet again,” Aden said unexpectedly. Nico could see solemn determination glowing in his dark brown eyes. Nico took a moment to wonder if that was what he looked like when he made his decision to look for the Doors of Death in Tartarus.

“I don’t know who he is,” Aden said. “But I remember what he looks like and the sound of his voice.” Nico was pretty sure that the face of his parents’ murderer was a very hard thing to forget. “The next time we meet, I’ll be ready for him.” Aden gripped Nico’s hands tightly and gritted his teeth.

“The next time we meet, I’ll _kill_ him.”

Seeing the cold look in Aden’s eyes (so similar to Nico’s own), he had little doubt that Aden would do just that… or die trying.

“If it were me,” Nico said, deciding that now was a good time to be as honest as possible. “If I’d lost someone like you did,” his thoughts drifted to his sisters (the one still alive and trapped, frozen in time and the one wandering the Underworld without a purpose), “I’d never be brave enough to go after their killer.”

In the other timeline, when he’d thought that Percy had let Bianca die on purpose, Nico had been too afraid to face him – his sister’s _killer_ – because of his confusing feelings for that person. Instead, he ran away, crying and blinded by despair. Even years later, after he’d long since forgiven Percy for that – something that wasn’t even his fault in the first place – Nico kept running.

As for Gaea, the one responsible for Hazel’s death, Nico could barely hold his own against her followers. What hope did he have to fight against the goddess herself?

Aden smiled, it was small and pained, but it was a smile nonetheless. “You’re braver than you think,” he reassured Nico.

“…How can you be so sure?” Nico asked without looking at him.

Aden had no idea of Nico’s past life. He had no clue of how many years Nico had spent running away from himself, from his feelings and the boy he had feelings for. Even now, he was still running.

If he was truly brave, then he’d have shadow travelled himself to New York a long time ago to look for Percy. He’d have saved Bianca from the Lotus Hotel by now. He’d have faced Zeus on Olympus, told him of the future that he came from and the enemies that threaten to end the world as they knew it.

But he hadn’t and probably wouldn’t do any of that…because he was afraid. Nico was afraid of the consequences of changing too many things too soon. Chronos himself had said that just by sending him back to the past, they were changing the lives and Fates of many people and not all of it was for the better.

What if his arrival had changed Aden’s Fate as well? Nico would never forgive himself if anything bad happened to Aden all because he met Nico.

“I’m sure,” Aden said, gripping Nico’s hands comfortingly, pulling Nico away from the depressing direction his thoughts had been heading in. “Because I’m your big brother.”

As always, Aden’s reasoning hadn’t made any sense to Nico.

But somehow, as always, it had answered Nico’s questions effectively.

xXXx

“The room… in which the doy…”

“That’s a B.”

“… b-boys were fed… was a large stone hall… with a cho-copper at one end-”

“What are you doing?” one of the newer foster children of the orphanage asked upon entering the small attic/library/radio room.

“I’m helping Nico practice reading,” Aden said pointing to Nico who ignored the new arrival – like he ignored most people – and kept reading…very slowly.

“…br-brez-”

“Dressed,” Aden corrected patiently.

“Dressed,” Nico repeated, “…in an aq… qro… apron!”

“Right,” Aden nodded.

“Dressed in an apron,” Nico read again. “…tor- for the… purpose…?” Did he get that right?

“That’s correct.”

“Nico can’t read?” the other orphan, an eight-year-old named Lisa asked with much confusion. “But he’s a big kid,” she protested. “He’s already in Year 7!”

“Nico has dyslexia,” Aden explained to her while keeping an eye and an ear out for Nico’s reading.

Lisa was quiet for a second. “…I don’t think I understand,” she admitted.

“It’s… um…” Aden tried to explain it in a way the little girl could understand. “It means that he can’t see letters the same way other people can.”

Lisa looked a little less confused and a little more curious.

“La…Labled the druel-”

“Ladled the gruel.”

“Ladled the gruel… at mealtimes.”

“What book is he reading?” Lisa asked. She couldn’t tell because Nico had the book opened on the table with its cover facing the surface.

“Oliver Twist,” Aden answered absentmindedly and nodded at Nico to tell him that he read the last word correctly and to keep reading. “By Charles Dickens.”

Nico, in a rare act of immaturity, snorted with amusement at the name ‘ _Dick_ ens’.

Teaching Nico how to read had been Aden’s idea, not Nico’s. He had long ago accepted that his dyslexia couldn’t be cured or overcome. Despite Aden’s insistence on his name change, he was aware of who he really was. He was Nico di Angelo, a son of Hades. He was a demigod before he was anything else. The only language he could effortlessly read and understand was Ancient Greek, not English.

Nico wanted to stop. They’d been at this for two hours. He was frustrated and tired. The words from the book were swimming in front of his eyes, but Aden’s presence and patient tutoring was making him reluctant to give up.

Aden had known very well how much Nico loved to be read to. He wanted Nico to be able to experience the wonders of reading on his own. Aden told Nico that even if he couldn’t help overcome his dyslexia, he could at least help Nico cope with it.

“You’re a smart boy, Nico,” Aden had said. “And I want everyone to know that.”

And, apparently, the first step to showing off Nico’s intelligence was by showing everyone that he wouldn’t let something as trivial as dyslexia get in his way.

It was almost overwhelming, the confidence Aden had in Nico. It wasn’t that Aden wanted him to be a normal boy who could read – actually, Nico was pretty sure that Aden had long since accepted that Nico was anything but normal. He said that he just wanted others – like the other kids at Nico’s school – to stop looking down on his little brother and see him for the amazing person Aden knew him to be.

Nico couldn’t even begin to define how happy he felt at hearing his big brother say those things to him.

“Of this festive…composition…!” Fueled by the thought of Aden’s confidence in him, Nico read correctly on his first try.

“Bob’s your uncle!” Aden jumped excitedly. “You did it!”

xXXx

“Not again,” Mr. Green, the old man who does most of the gardening around the orphanage grounds ‘tsk’ed as he read the day’s edition of the Daily Newspaper. “This is the third murder this season. Why hasn’t anything been done about this? What exactly are the police doing? Is this what we hardworking citizens are paying our taxes for?”

There were three people in the kitchen. Mrs. Regnery, the plump cook who specializes in old home remedies, Mr. Green who was sitting at the kitchen table with a twisted ankle and Nico who was sitting across from the old man with a bowl of peeled pears in front of him and a knife in one hand. Nico was helping Mrs. Regnery slice the fruits into another bowl while waiting for Aden to finish up with the gardening – he and the older boys of the orphanage were handling Mr. Green’s duties for the day while he was healing.

At first, Nico ignored Mr. Green’s irritated grumbles – the old man always had something to complain about when reading the papers – but his head shot up with interest at the word ‘murder’.

“What murder?” he questioned.

Mr. Green turned the papers towards Nico so that he could see the picture of a couple of uniformed men taking away a covered body on a gurney. He didn’t show it for very long because he knew that Nico couldn’t really read the headline with his dyslexia. So, Mr. Green read it for him. “Patchwork Patchman Strikes Again.”

“Patchman?” the boy tested out the name on his tongue.

“Yeah,” the old man grunted as his eyes returned to the papers. “There’s this psychopath running around London, killing people then taking a part of their body like a limb or heart. Seems like this time, he took the bloke’s head.”

Nico absorbed the gruesome details like a sponge. “What does he do with them?”

“Don’t know,” Mr. Green said with a shrug. “He probably eats them. Or maybe he keeps them frozen as souvenirs.” He sneers wickedly.

Nico scrunched up his nose in response.

“Albert,” Mrs. Regnery huffs. “Can you not talk about such horrid things at the table? You’ll ruin the boy’s appetite.”

“Meh,” he shrugs off the reprimand gruffly. “It’ll take a lot more than talk of blood and bodies to make this one lose his stomach.”

Nico grins in return. “So what else does it say?” he asked once Mrs. Regnery had her back turned. “About this Patchman guy?”

“He’s mostly a myth, really,” Mr. Green gives his honest opinion. “An urban legend. It’s a name the papers give to the one behind the murders. No one even knows if it’s even the same person.”

He leaned in closer to Nico when he saw Mrs. Regnery shoot them a disapproving look from the corner of her eye. “They sometimes call him the Modern Jack the Ripper,” he whispered conspiratorially. “No one knows anything about him. No one’s seen what he looks like and he never leaves any evidence behind. No fingerprints, no DNA, _nothing_.

“Even his victims are all random. All of them are healthy men and women with nothing in common. None of them have anything to do with each other. They don’t die the same way and the bodies are never found in the same place. Some of his victims even have their bodies still intact when they’re found. The only thing that’s the same…” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice for dramatic effect, “…is the _marks_.”

“Marks?” Nico whispered at the same level. “What marks?”

“ _Burns_ in the shape of a hand print.” Mr. Green put up his hand to show Nico his palm. “All of the victims have them. Most of the time it’s found on the necks.” He brought his hand around his own neck after putting down the newspaper.

“Really?” Nico asked in fascination. He’s had many ghosts tell him the gory details of their deaths. Sometimes, the ghosts themselves are murderers and they would try to freak him out by describing the ways they killed their many victims. This was the first time he’s heard of anyone leaving marks like that.

“You know, boy,” Mr. Green said. “That friend of yours was said to have a run-in with Patchman before he was brought here.”

Nico didn’t need to ask who Mr. Green meant. There was only one person here he called a friend. He was also the only one Nico would dare call a brother.

Mr. Green was talking about Aden Hunt.

Nico put the pieces together easily.

Aden’s parents were killed by Patchman.

xXXx

It’s been over a year since he was brought back to the past and he hasn’t been any closer to finding the man responsible for the apocalypse since the day he got hit by that cab (Thanks for that, Chronos) .

He didn’t even know anything about the man he was looking for other than the fact that he could use a weapon of the gods. The only clue he had been given (He _knew_ he should’ve asked more questions before letting Chronos send him here!) was the fact that he would meet someone with a connection to the man and played a role in his plans for the end of the world.

But Nico had met lots of people since his arrival. Had Nico already met this person before? Or will he meet them later in the future? Was it supposed to be the first person he met in London – in which case, it would be the doctor who’d treated him at the hospital? Maybe it was someone who’d made a more significant impact in Nico’s life since he was sent to this timeline? Someone like-

“What are you frowning about?” Aden asked as approached the low wall Nico was sitting on. “Wear a smile and have friends, wear a frown and have wrinkles,” he recited as he handed Nico a cone of ice cream.

“Where’d you hear that?” Nico asked.

“My English teacher said it,” Aden shrugged as he took the first lick of his frozen treat.

Every Saturday afternoon, an ice-cream truck would drive by their orphanage and every Saturday – without fail – the young orphans would flag it down and buy a frozen treat for themselves. The arrival of the ice-cream truck had long since lost its novelty to the older orphans like Aden. Nico, on the other hand – unlike the other kids of his age – had never really been a fan of ice-cream (he preferred fast foods like cheeseburgers and french fries).

But summer break had just begun and they were both feeling like relaxing a little outside. And nothing said summer like enjoying a 99 Flake with monkey’s blood syrup outdoors.

“What were you thinking about?” Aden asked Nico.

“It’s nothing.” Nico shook his head noncommittally.

“Nico…” Aden sighed.

It was nice, Nico thought, to have someone like Aden as a brother. He’s always concerned for Nico. He does everything he can to make Nico’s a life a little brighter, a little better and a little more bearable. Aden was constantly hovering over Nico’s shoulder like his personal guardian angel, but he made sure to keep some distance between them at all times so that Nico wouldn’t feel smothered or uncomfortable.

It was like having Bianca with him again.

“Why did you change my name?” Nico asked instead. Because of Aden constantly introducing him as his little brother (and Nico never correcting him), everyone had taken to calling him Nicholas Hunt, even if the name the system had given him was something else entirely.

Aden looked at Nico for a few seconds before answering, as if he knew that that hadn’t been what Nico had been thinking so hard about. “Because Nicholas sounds more British than Nico,” he said. “And because you’re my brother, so we’ve _got_ to have the same surname.”

“Why do you want me to be your brother?” Nico asked another question.

Aden let out an amused huff. He took out the chocolate flake from his ice-cream and bit into it. “I’ve been calling you my little brother for over a year and you ask me this question _now_?” He chuckled. “To be honest, at first, it was because you were really good at Hide-‘n-Seek,” Aden revealed.

Nico said nothing. He listened to Aden’s explanation silently as he bit into his cone.

“Then, I began to notice a few more things about you… such as how you would go out of your way to do _everything_ on your own.” The smile on Aden’s face widened as if he were recalling something exceptionally amusing. “And how sometimes it seemed like it physically pains you to ask others for help.”

Nico remembered how much trouble he had operating with one arm in a cast during his first week at the orphanage. One day, Nico took over fifteen minutes trying to put his shirt on before he grew so frustrated, he threw the shirt out the window and began to seriously consider going through the day half-naked. Then, Aden entered the room (with Nico’s discarded shirt) laughing his head off and calling him ‘bloody insane’.

Nico had ignored the doofus (as he had taken to calling the loud older boy in his mind) and continued sulking on his bed. Then, Aden did something Nico never expected.

He walked up to the grumpy boy and helped him put the shirt on. Still laughing, he said, “You’re _barmy_ if you think you could do everything by yourself with that broken arm!”

Aden obviously remembered that day as well as Nico did, if the wide smile he was wearing had anything to say about it.

“I didn’t like it,” Aden admitted. “You were just so small and young. You needed someone to look after you. And since you didn’t have any parents to take care of you,” (He lived in an orphanage. Obviously, that meant he had no parents to rely on), “I thought you should at least have a friend, someone you could trust and rely on. So, that’s what I wanted to be.”

Aden finished his treat. Nico had finished his a few seconds earlier.

“I became your friend,” Aden continued. “I grew closer to you and learned more about you. Such as how you often have trouble sleeping and how you would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweat. I noticed how you prefer fried food and avoid healthy food like cereal and vegetables.” Well, it wasn’t like anyone could blame him. The vegetables and cereal reminded him too much of his ‘stepmother’ and ‘step-grandmother/aunt’. And Hades had never really cared enough about whether the foods he ate were healthy or not.

“I eat fruit,” Nico amended. Fruits were healthy, right? Even if eating one had pretty much killed him that time in the jar…

“Yes, you do.” Aden nodded. “You also avoid human contact and recoil every time someone touches you. You grimace whenever you look at the flowers in the garden.” That was also his stepmother’s fault. “Your skin is always very cold and you hate going out in the sun.” So that’s why Aden kept putting extra blankets on his bed at night and always forced him to go outside during the day.

“You always look at others with suspicion, like you’re expecting them to stab you the moment your back is turned,” Aden kept listing. Nico stared at him with a slight amount of awe. He never realized how perceptive Aden was. Maybe becoming a detective was a good career choice for him after all. “You’re especially sensitive to subjects related to death. You never look at people in the eye whenever they ask you about your life from before the accident.” Here, Aden shot Nico a reproachful look before continuing. “And despite calling Rei _gorgeous_ …” Oh no, he still hasn’t forgiven Nico for that, has he? “…your eyes follow the behinds of gents more than the ladies.”

Nico took a second to let Aden’s words sink in.

_…Wait! Does that mean…? He knew-!_

Seeing Nico stiffen and the look of terror in the smaller boy’s eyes, Aden smiled and put his arm around the boy’s shoulders to ease his dread. “You’re also unknowingly very kind and hardworking and selfless and honest and reliable and…” Aden paused to take a breath. “I couldn’t help but think how great it would be if I had someone like you as my baby brother.”

“…I’m not a baby,” Nico objected apprehensively after a few seconds and Aden still hadn’t pulled away from him with disgust. “I’m more mature than you are, you said so yourself. If anything _I_ should be the older brother.”

Aden laughed loudly and jokingly punched Nico in the arm.

“But I guess,” Nico said after Aden was done laughing. “Having you as a big brother isn’t so bad.”

A minute passed like that. Their 99 Flakes were finished and the boys sat together watching the other orphans play together in the front yard.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s been bothering you?” Aden asked, breaking the silence.

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,” Nico answered, quoting the words Aden had said to him when Nico asked him whether Rei was his girlfriend or not.

Recognizing the line, Aden snorted in amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten way ahead with this fic. I'll probably post the next chapter in a couple of weeks (maybe).


	3. aden hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico was Aden's little brother; he was family. Aden would give up his arm, his life, his everything for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, most of the chapters are gonna be like this: Focusing on Nico and his new life in London with minimum Greek stuff. But he'll still go to Camp Half-Blood and the Titan and Giant Wars will happen like in the books (don't worry), it just won't be as detailed and some of the events will be changed.  
> So, if you don't like what I have planned, then now's your chance to press the back button.  
> To those of you who stayed, ENJOY!

Aden hated the rain. He could never sleep when it was raining.

It was raining, the day he saw Nico with the dead kitten.

It was raining, the night his parents died.

It was raining, the day he died.

xXXx

“The wind’s picking up! Run faster, Nico!”

“Hold on!” Nico grunted. “It’s kinda hard to run with this huge trophy!”

Aden chuckled as he watched his little brother waddle down the hill carrying a silver goblet larger (and heavier) than his head. Engraved on the silver plate stuck to the ebony base was, “United Kingdom – Rathbones National School Championships – Silver”. Aden had decided to join the school’s small team this year – just for fun – and was surprised at how good he was at it. For the first time in five years, the team had somehow ended up taking first place in regional’s then moving on to getting second place for nationals. The prize giving ceremony was held earlier today and because the venue was just a bus ride away – therefore, there had been no need for one of the caretakers to send them there by car or to chaperone – Nico had been the only one to come with him.

Nico had clapped the most and the loudest when Aden’s team was called forth. He had even hugged Aden after the ceremony (the hug lasted for a full five seconds) and a smile had stayed on his face through the entire day.

It was the happiest Nico had been in a while.

Nico had seemed a little down these past few months. He was always staring off into the distance, his mind miles away. He usually acted anxious when he wasn’t sad or angry. He’s been having mood swings, his nightmares were more frequent and he’s been getting into trouble at school more often than before.

A part of Aden was glad to have been able to take Nico’s mind off of whatever it was that had been bothering him, even if for only one day. Another part of him was upset that his little brother still didn’t trust him enough to truthfully tell him of what it was that had been eating him up.

He had tried to guess what it was that had Nico so out of it. Aden had slept in the same bed as him and tried to get Nico to talk to him whenever he woke up from one of his nightmares, but Nico would just use exhaustion as an excuse and turn away from him to sleep. Aden walked him to and from school whenever he could and always made sure to be within an arm’s distance from him to reassure his little brother that he would always be there for Nico.

He had shortened their tutoring sessions to lessen the stress for Nico and increase the time they could have to talk. He had tried to ease Nico into talking about his life from before he arrived at the orphanage by talking about his own life. And last summer, Aden had even tried to talk to Nico about his… orientation and reassured the boy that Aden would always be his brother no matter what.

But none of it worked.

Nico was as tightlipped and mysterious as ever – maybe even more so. Every time Aden asked him anything even remotely personal, Nico would blatantly change the subject and talk about something completely unrelated. And if he was feeling particularly annoyed, he wouldn’t say anything at all and do his best to avoid Aden for the rest of the day.

It was very… frustrating.

Even still, Aden was understood… to an extent. After all, Nico wasn’t the only one with secrets to keep.

“Aden, come on!” Nico called back to him once he was a good five feet ahead.

In his musings, Aden had slowed down, giving Nico the chance to not only catch up to him, but to surpass him as well. Nico was still carrying Aden’s trophy. He had insisted, saying that he wanted to brag to the other kids about it the moment they got back since Aden was too humble to do so himself. Aden just laughed and let his little brother do as he pleased.

The sky had turned grey just before the ceremony ended. The wind had picked up on the bus ride home. Aden and Nico had started running the moment they reached the bus stop. They wanted to get back to the familiar walls of the orphanage before it started raining.

Aden felt a drop water land on his forehead. Well, so much for that plan.

“It’s started to rain,” Aden stated the obvious when a drop of rain landed on his glasses.

The small orphanage was within view now. The two boys picked up their speed.

They were both barely ten feet of the short stone wall that surrounded the orphanage when Nico suddenly stopped running. He stood in the middle of the road, his clothes now wet from the rain. Aden stopped running too. He turned around to look back at Nico. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Nico had gone pale – well, pal _er_ than usual. He looked terrified. His skin was now white and ashen. His black eyes were wide as saucers and his lips trembled and moved, forming barely audible words. “I can hear… ringing…” he said into the rain.

Aden frowned. “Wha-?”

Nico let the trophy drop to the wet ground and took off running towards the orphanage not a second after. Aden ran after him. “Nico!” he called out to the panicked boy.

They both jumped over the short wall, ran across the empty yard and towards the front door. Nico pushed against the wooden door and it opened with a loud bang. Aden took a moment to wonder why it wasn’t locked. Everyone knew how the younger kids loved to play in the rain, so Mrs. Regnery and the others always kept it locked on rainy days to discourage the more mischievous children from wandering outside.

Nico stayed by the doorway. He didn’t enter the house. He took a few seconds to survey the interior. The boy tilted his head left and right with a deep frown, he was straining his ears to hear for something his eyes couldn’t see.

Aden was doing the same thing. The entire building was too quiet. Not a sound escaped the old walls. There was no sound of children stomping up and down the stairs. There was no sound of anyone washing the dishes in the kitchen as there usually was at this time of the day. The TV room was quiet. There was no trace of twinkling laughter or the excited babbling of children.

There was only silence.

Aden knew that some of the kids liked to take short naps during this time of the day, but it was improbable for the entire household to be asleep. He was really starting to worry and the anxious glances Nico kept sending him wasn’t helping one bit.

As quietly as he could, Nico opened the closet next to him and took out two umbrellas. He passed one of the umbrellas to Aden. Aden looked at the red umbrella – he recognized it as Ms. Atwood’s – and then at Nico with apprehension. Nico shrugged. Aden received the message loud and clear, ‘Better to be safe than sorry’.

Recognizing the sensation of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Aden nodded at Nico then jerked his head towards the TV room. Nico nodded in reply and moved towards the dining room across the hall.

Aden walked slowly with the red umbrella gripped tightly in front of him with both hands. He stole a short glance at Nico and was a little put out to see that his little brother was handling the grey umbrella in his hands expertly, as if he were holding an actual sword. Aden felt like a complete lunatic compared to the younger boy.

He entered the TV room and saw an unknown shadow in the couch facing the big television. The TV was turned off and the figure on the couch hadn’t reacted to Nico’s loud entrance, so Aden assumed that whoever-it-was was asleep.

Aden gulped audibly and took a few steps closer towards the figure.

Then, he let his arms fall to his side and his grip on the umbrella slackened as he heaved a sigh of relief upon recognizing the person. It was just Mr. Green.

“Nico, it’s just-” he stopped talking when he didn’t see Nico behind him. He must have moved towards the kitchen when he saw that the dining room was empty.

Aden sighed and promised himself that he would look for Nico later. Right now, he wanted some questions answered. Aden walked towards the silent Mr. Green and took a hold of the man’s shoulder. “Mr. Green, wake up,” he said while shaking the man. “Where are the others?”

Mr. Green didn’t respond. He showed no signs of waking up.

Aden shook him harder. “Mr. Green!” he yelled.

The man’s head lifelessly lolled to the side from Aden’s shaking. Aden could feel the unease from before creeping up on him again.

He walked around the couch to stand in front of the man.

The sight that greeted his eyes made him gasp loudly.

Mr. Green’s skin was ashen and white and his blue eyes were wide open and glassy. His mouth was open and his lips tinged blue. It didn’t seem like he was breathing. But what made Aden suck in a deep breath was the mark on Mr. Green’s neck.

It was a burn in the shape of a handprint.

In his mind’s eye, Aden saw his father writhing in agony as monster held him in the air by his head. He saw the monster grinning at his father while his touch was burning his face from the bones of his skull.

_“The next time we meet, I’ll_ kill _him.”_

_“Our meeting was Fate.”_

_“…We shall meet again, boy.”_

_“Mom! Dad!”_

_“Pray… as you curse your Fate.”_

_“Hello.”_

Someone screamed.

“Nico!” Aden recognized the voice and immediately ran towards the kitchen. He left the red umbrella in the TV room.

Upon entering the dining room, Aden heard the scuffle of more than one person moving. When he saw that there was no one in the dining room, he dashed to the kitchen and froze upon the scene his eyes landed on.

There were three people in the kitchen. One was Mrs. Regnery who was slumped over the kitchen counter. She wasn’t moving.

The second person was Nico. He was standing in one corner of the kitchen with the umbrella opened and pointing towards the large figure looming over him. Aden saw that the umbrella was shaking in Nico’s grip. He was struggling to push it against the large figure.

The third person stopped trying to get to Nico when he heard Aden enter. He slowly turned towards the older boy and gave him a sickening yellowish grin.

He was huge. He was very tall and very broad. Most of his body was hidden by the large black cloak he wore. From what Aden could see, his hands and face were covered with dirty bandages – like an Ancient Egyptian mummy – and the small patches of skin that he could see on the tips of his fingers were grayish and scabby. His eyes were black and his lips were thin and blue. His eyes and mouth had gruesome stitches along the edges.

He looked no different than he had in Aden’s latest nightmare. He was just as frightening as he had been four years ago, the night he killed Aden’s parents. The only difference was that instead of just fear, the sight of that horrid face also made Aden feel anger. He could feel the rage boiling hot in his veins.

“Patchman…!” Aden growled, his usually warm eyes narrowing into an icy cold glare.

“I’ve been waiting for this day… We both have,” the murderer said with a hoarse and deep voice. The large man stood up straighter and back away from Nico to walk closer to Aden. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Hunt?”

Aden gritted his teeth and curled his hands into hard fists. He could feel himself shaking from the rage that was slowly consuming him.

Patchman was right. Aden had been waiting to meet him again. He’d been waiting for the chance to kill his parents’ murderer.

Aden took a step towards the monster that frequently starred in his nightmares.

“Aden, don’t!” Nico yelled out urgently.

At the sound of his little brother’s voice, Aden froze.

At the same time, Nico used his entire weight to push the umbrella on to the large man’s back. Patchman didn’t even stagger, but he did pause in his advance towards Aden. Nico let go of the umbrella and quickly dived towards the kitchen sink. Nico’s hand moved to grab something from within the sink and his hand emerged from the dirty dish water with one of the kitchen knives in his grip.

“Stay away from him!” Nico yelled with the knife pointed at the intruder. Somehow, Aden had a feeling that the command was directed to him and not the monster.

Nico dashed as quickly as his short legs could carry him, but his target – despite his large size – was faster. Patchman turned around and effortlessly grabbed Nico’s arm and twisted it until a sickening crack was heard to make him let go of the knife.

“Argh!” Nico yelled in pain.

“Nico!” Aden shouted with alarm. His eyes no longer held any trace of rage or hate. They were now focused on Nico and filled with worry.

He tried to think of something. He had to do something. There had to be some way he could help his little brother, but his mind was filled with too much worry to be able to think clearly.

Patchman was cackling madly at the sound of their screams.

Suddenly, he stopped.

He pulled Nico off of the ground until the arm in his hold was right in front of his black eyes. Patchman took a closer look, right where the gray skin of his fingertips met the pale skin of Nico’s arm.

Aden was reminded of the night his parents died, when that man had grabbed his hand and stared at it the same way he was currently staring at Nico’s arm.

“Oh…” he murmured in fascination. From where he was standing, Aden saw something he had only seen once before… a blue glow emitting from the man’s finger tips. However, unlike last time – when Patchman’s skin had made contact with Aden’s four years ago – the light moved. It flowed from the man’s fingertips and down Nico’s arm smoothly. Aden was frozen with shock. Nico, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped struggling. It was probably because – unlike Aden and the man – he couldn’t see the light.

Aden’s eyes darted around the kitchen – desperately trying to come up with some kind of plan. Then, his eyes landed on the floor. He paid attention to an upturned wooden stool and to the knife and umbrella Nico dropped. Not a second later – trying to get a glimpse at what Aden was looking at – so did Nico’s. Aden caught Nico’s eye and gave his little brother a reassuring nod. The message was clear:

_Leave this to me._

“Hmm…” Patchman continued. He was looking at Nico as if he were an interesting new species never before discovered by mankind or a valuable treasure that was only thought to be a myth before. “Who are you?” he asked Nico. He pulled the small boy up by his arm until Nico’s brown eyes were level with his deformed eyes. Nico visibly flinched – whether it was from their close proximity or the tightening grip on his arm, Aden wasn’t sure.

“Hands off my little brother!” Aden yelled. While Patchman had been distracted by Nico, Aden had taken the chance to quietly skulk behind the man. Then, in a flash, he ducked down and picked up the discarded grey umbrella Nico had been using. Almost immediately, he closed it and dashed towards Patchman with the umbrella’s pointed tip aimed at the man’s back.

Patchman grinned in delight at Aden’s words. His grin only grew wider when he saw what Aden was trying to do. Turning around – with one hand keeping a tight hold on Nico’s arm – he used his left hand to block the bespectacled boy’s attack. The umbrella’s tip pierced the man’s hand straight through. The two boys momentarily froze in shock when Patchman only laughed at the injury. Aden pressed the button that opened the umbrella.

Patchman kept laughing.

Aden used the open umbrella to his advantage and – unseen by the large man – he crouched down and released one hand to grab a hold of a wooden leg. He kept the other hand’s grip on the umbrella tight while he kicked something between Patchman’s opened legs until it stopped right under Nico.

Patchman pushed the umbrella away with his impaled hand – without showing any sign of pain from the injury Aden inflicted – just in time to see Aden release the umbrella entirely. Now he could use both hands to lift up the stool behind him. He brought the wooden stool down – as hard as he could – and hit the man with it. He instinctively released Nico to bring his other hand up to block the oncoming furniture. He grunted as the stool broke against his thick arms.

Nico – now that he was released – dropped down low to pick up the item Aden had kicked earlier. With almost inhuman reflexes, Nico stood up again almost immediately and slashed at the man’s side with the knife from earlier.

Aden’s impromptu plan was carried out in less than twenty seconds.

Both Nico and Aden saw the deep bleeding gash Nico’s attack left. They both stopped moving to see what the man would do next. They were only slightly shocked to see him do something the both of them were half-expecting.

The man was laughing.

“A brother!” he giggled maniacally – ignoring his wounds and the two boys. “He has a brother!” the man laughed louder. “I only came here today to retrieve the sword’s Perfect Vessel… and I unexpectedly find him together with the spear’s Perfect Vessel… Oh, how delightful! This is just fantastic!”

Sensing that something bad was going to happen soon, Aden quickly pulled Nico away Patchman and ran as fast as he could away from the man. Not expecting his brother to grab him so suddenly, Nico dropped the knife in shock.

When Aden first saw Patchman again, he had felt nothing but anger and hatred, but after Nico had snapped him out of it, the anger had been replaced by cautiousness and the hatred was replaced by worry for his little brother’s safety.

_“I’ll_ kill _him.”_

No matter how much his shattered heart was screaming at him to turn around and face the monster who had broken it by killing his parents in right front of his eyes, his mind and instincts were urging him to take Nico and run.

Aden would die if he turned back now, he was sure of it.

Aden’s grip on Nico tightened.

He wouldn’t turn back. He would live – with Nico. They would both get out of here alive. He wouldn’t die today. Not even for revenge. Because right now, ensuring his little brother’s life was more important than avenging his parents’ deaths.

Aden wasted no time to pull the both of them out the open front door. The earlier drizzle had evolved into a full blown storm. Rain pelted every exposed surface like bullets. The wind blew and howled fiercely in symphony with the booming roar of thunder.

The two of them were soaked within seconds. The rain made it almost impossible to see what was in front of them. But Aden didn’t care. He only cared about getting himself and Nico as far away from that monster as possible.

He pulled them away from the orphanage that had been his home for the past five years, the place where he met and bonded with his little brother.

They crossed the wet yard and jumped over the low stone wall that surrounded the orphanage grounds. He landed on a puddle. Aden didn’t even wait for Nico to properly land from his jump before he continued pulling the smaller boy with him.

_We have to run! I have to get him away from that monster!_

Aden gritted his teeth at the thought of the man that had killed his parents, the one responsible for the quiet orphanage he and Nico returned to.

_I won’t let him kill Nico!_

He squeezed Nico’s hand harder.

Aden stepped onto the tarmac. Nico followed not a step behind.

_HONK!_

Aden’s eyes darted to the right. He saw two beams of light shine at him through the rain. He could faintly make out the silhouette of a lorry moving towards them. The lorry was moving too fast because of the wet tarmac. It wouldn’t be able to stop in time.

_I can’t let Nico die!_

Aden turned his body slightly. He let go of Nico’s hand while the other shot out, ready to push the younger boy away from the advancing vehicle.

But Nico was faster.

He pushed himself towards Aden and held him in a tight embrace.

xXXx

His ears were ringing.

Someone was going to die.

It was impossible for the both of them to avoid getting hit. They both knew this. That was why Aden had tried to push him away. It was why Nico was wrapping his pale arms around Aden and holding on to him as tightly as he could.

Even if the both of them would get hit, even if one of them had to die, at least this way…

…the one to die wouldn’t be Aden.

_“…some things just have to happen… for better or worse…”_

xXXx

He saw the lorry coming before the boys did.

He saw the older one freeze momentarily when he finally noticed the oncoming vehicle.

He saw the older one try to push the younger boy out of its path.

He saw the smaller boy wrap his arms all the way around the bigger one in a tight hold and push the both of them to the ground.

Then the lorry hit.

He saw the two of them get squished under the large round tyres of the heavy lorry, then they were both rolling under the long – but empty – trailer of the vehicle. He almost cringed in sympathy when he saw how they were forcibly scraped between the tarmac and the trailer before they were squished once again – this time, by the back tyres. He saw something get detached from one of the boys and get stuck in between the still rolling back tyres.

The lorry kept moving until the two boys rolled out behind the trailer. It stopped moving.

The man could see that the smaller boy still had most of his body – or what was left of it – wrapped around the bigger one. He was almost impressed. The little brother had used his own body to shield and cushion the older one from the worst of the impact. Then older boy was unconscious, bruised and bleeding, but at least he was still in one piece – which was more than what he could say for the younger one.

There was a lot of blood.

Now he was no longer impressed.

“Oh my…” he murmured. The two boys were still alive – if barely – but the younger one’s body was going to need fixing. What a nuisance…

He saw the driver exit the cab of the lorry and run through the rain around the large vehicle, towards the growing pool of blood at the back.

Oh well. At least there was someone here he could take out his frustrations on before he proceeded to patching up his future Vessel. Killing the panicking driver would be enough to cool off the irritation he felt towards the boy’s foolish act.

xXXx

The rain was still pouring. Aden was next to him, laid out on his side on the wet tarmac. His glasses were on the ground near his face, broken.

He had to remember to tell Mrs. Atwood to take them out to buy new glasses.

There was a trickle of something red flowing down Aden’s forehead. There was a much bigger pool of red under him.

Was that from the rain or was it something else?

Is that…blood?

He heard a man scream.

xXXx

There was something long and thin shoved down his throat.

Everything smelled like blood and rust.

He was so cold.

There was a bright light shining into his eyes from above.

He heard something metallic clinking together. Maybe Aden was getting him a spoon from the silverware drawer?

His chest felt empty. What a weird feeling. Why did he feel like this?

He looked down.

Of course it would feel empty. His chest was cut open. He could see his own lungs. What happened to his ribs? There was something that looked like a silver pair of scissors and a thin scalpel poking out of it.

There was a lot of blood.

His ears were ringing.

Was he dying….? Again…?

No, he can’t… He still had something… to do… He had to find… to stop…

He was scared.

Where was Aden?

xXXx

How ugly.

The entire face was covered by dirty bandages. He could see patches of rotting skin where the bandages couldn’t cover. The eyes and mouth were stitched along the edges. The fingers were wrapped in bandages too. They were curled around a scalpel reddened with blood.

He didn’t want to see such a horrid sight.

He closed his eyes.

He felt tired. Was it bed time yet.

Where was Aden? Why hasn’t his brother joined him in his bed yet?

A picture flashed in his mind.

Aden was bleeding on the road… in the rain… unmoving…

xXXx

There were wires and tubes surrounding him.

A bright light… Everything hurt… cold…

He screamed.

At least it wasn’t raining anymore.

xXXx

His ears were still ringing.

Someone was dying.

No…! Aden!

Nico’s eyes shot open and he gasped. Then he winced. Breathing had never hurt so much.

The ceiling was very high. He couldn’t see any walls yet. He was lying down on what felt like a slab of steel.

Nico’s brown eyes darted around alarm.

Nico spotted shelves with rows of large jars. Some of them were empty, but most of them were filled with an unknown yellowish liquid and had something pickled within. There were wires and tubes winding through the jars and spilling out onto the dirty floor.

Nico was doing his best to convince himself that the objects in the jars were just pickled animal parts ( _not human_ ) and that the brownish stains covering the floor was just mud ( _not blood_ ). He felt cold and he could hear the faint buzzing of machines in the room.

He slowly got up on his elbows and inspected himself.

He was half-naked and wearing shorts he was sure never belonged to him before. He saw a few patches of white taped to a few areas of his torso and stomach. Every other part of him but his right arm was covered in soiled bandages. There were scars on him that he swore were never there before. There were also tubes and wires sticking out him and…

…He was covered in dried blood.

He could feel himself start to freak out. His breaths became more labored and adrenaline began to pump through his veins.

In his panic, Nico recklessly pulled the tubes and wires out of him and rolled over. He fell onto the dirty floor on his side. The metal table he had been lying on crashed next to him.

_Where am I?_

Nico tried to stand up, but his arms and legs were shaking. He was only able to get on his elbows and knees for a few seconds before he collapsed. Everything hurt. He couldn’t move.

He gritted his teeth and tried again. Nico’s eyes landed on his arm and he tried to forcibly glare it to stop shaking. That was when he noticed the new scar that ran along his arm and up to his elbow. No, this scar was faded. It couldn’t be new.

Nico turned his arm around. The scar was shaped like a jagged line that began at his right wrist and ended near his elbow.

Nico’s seen this scar before.

“Aden…” he whimpered in confusion and fear.

What was going on? Why did he have Aden’s scar? What happened to them after the crash…?

“Aden, where are you…?” Nico called out softly, tears stinging his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

Then, he heard someone groan.

He heard _Aden_ groan.

“Aden…!” Nico called out with newfound determination. He used that determination to force his body into moving properly and shakily stood up. Once he was up, Nico turned his body a complete three-hundred-sixty degrees twice before he finally noticed a metal table similar to the one he had been laying on right behind him.

On that table was Aden.

His brother looked both better and worse than he did.

Aden looked better, because he wasn’t covered in as much blood or as many bandages as Nico was.

Aden looked better, because there weren’t any tubes or wires stuck to him.

Aden looked worse, because he was missing an arm. His right arm, to be exact.

Aden looked worse, because – unlike Nico – he wasn’t moving at all.

Nico screamed.

“Aden! Wake up, Aden!” Nico kept calling out as he stumbled to where his older brother was.

“Nico…” Aden groaned groggily after a few seconds of Nico shaking his shoulders in panic.

_He’s alive!_ Flooded with relief, Nico held Aden close and mumbled into the older boy’s shoulder, “I’m here, Aden. I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry… I’m not a very good big brother…” Aden murmured dazedly.

“That’s not true,” Nico protested as he tried to pull Aden off of the table. “You’re an awesome brother. You’re doing great.” Nico limbs were shaking, even so he put all of his strength into pulling Aden’s limp body.

They needed to get out of here… or else…!

“You got hurt… and-” Whatever Aden wanted to say was cut off when Nico finally pulled him off of the metal table and onto the dirty floor.

Nico hissed when Aden landed on his bandaged stomach, but was surprised that he didn’t feel as much pain as he thought he would. Aden, on the other hand, only let out a quiet groan. It was as if he no longer had the strength to scream.

While Nico was checking Aden over to make sure that he didn’t make Aden’s wounds worse or cause any new ones to appear – while doing his best not to think of Aden’s missing limb – he noticed faint wisps of light radiating off of Aden’s body like steam. Nico took a moment to rub his eyes with the heels of his palms before he took a look at Aden again. The light was gone now. Was it just his imagination?

“You’re hurt…” Aden began to mumble again.

“Yeah, well, so are you,” Nico shot back as he took a deep breath before he began to drag Aden across the dirty floor and towards the rusted metal door on the other side of the large room – the only exit seemingly available.

“It’s my fault… I should’ve been faster…” Aden insisted. He must have been thinking of the accident, the most likely cause of their injuries.

“You can make it up to me later,” Nico said through gritted teeth. His injuries didn’t hurt as much as it did before, but that could just be because of the adrenaline. As soon as they were somewhere safe and the adrenaline runs out, Nico was sure that the pain would return tenfold. “ _After_ we make it out of here.”

After a few more seconds of pulling Aden towards the door, he heard it.

_Clack…! Clack…!_ It was the sound of footsteps approaching the door from the other side.

Nico’s blood froze. He couldn’t move.

Aden must have heard the sound too. Nico could feel the older boy stiffen in his arms.

Then, with lucidity that was absent since he woke up, Aden pushed against Nico – with his only arm – and said, “Hide…” He pushed harder. “You won’t be able to get away if you’re dragging me along too…”

“But, Aden-!” Nico began to protest.

“It’s fine… I’ll distract that monster! Just _go_!”

_Creak…!_ The door opened.

xXXx

He entered the room and was only slightly surprised to see both of his previously occupied examination tables overturned. It explained the noises he heard before.

He immediately spotted one of the brothers – the older one – laid out on the blood crusted floor not too far from the door. He was more surprised to see the younger one nowhere in sight.

Oh, well. It’s not like he could have gotten very far. Even if he had, he would come back eventually. If he had learned anything about these two brothers in the limited time he had spent with them, it was that neither would abandon the other.

He glanced at the older brother and was satisfied to see the soft glow emitting from his body. The brothers didn’t necessarily have to be alive – least of all, the younger one – but he needed to preserve the older one’s body until the sword was found and it was preferable if the younger one’s body were a few years older, hence, the two needed to be kept alive… for now.

He walked into the cold metal room.

Now, if he were a little boy worried for not only his own life and safety, but his brother’s as well, where would he go? The boy had to still be in the room, he would have heard if anyone other than himself left the room.

He needed to see whether or not the arm was functional and – if not – make a few modifications. The boys weren’t biological brothers – of course, he should have known – so their blood and tissue types weren’t compatible. That may cause some complications in the future and-

Suddenly, as he was passing by the older brother, the boy shot out his only arm – (as the sword’s Perfect Vessel, he wouldn’t need all his limbs) – and held onto his leg tightly.

“Run!”

xXXx

Despite the fear, pain and exhaustion, Aden held tight.

“Nico, run!” he yelled again.

Patchman chuckled darkly and crouched down to look Aden in the eye. His hand began to glow before he brought it closer to Aden’s face. He held Aden’s face in a tight grip – Aden almost gagged at the rotting smell that assaulted his nostrils – before he moved his hand away.

Something else followed the movement of Patchman’s hand – the hand that Aden could have sworn was bleeding from a hole through the palm the last time he saw it. It was a light green light shaped like Aden’s head. Patchman’s hand glowed brighter and he pulled the green light farther – like he was extracting it from Aden – until a neck and shoulders began to form.

Aden felt lightheaded. He was going to pass out any second now…

“You know, boy,” he murmured into Aden’s ear with a dark grin. “I _was_ going to let you live… even without an arm, your body is still of use to me… However, after thinking it over, your soul really isn’t as necessary…”

Just as Aden was on the verge of losing consciousness, he heard someone running towards them.

He heard Nico yelling.

There was a sickening crunching sound and Patchman stiffened before a sickening grin split his face. He quickly let go of Aden – after which, Aden found it much easier to breathe – and turned around to face his attacker, Nico.

While he was panting for breath on the floor, Aden took notice of the handle of an axe – probably a fire axe – sticking out of Patchman’s shoulder.

The next thing Aden saw in his blurry vision was Patchman with a hand around Nico’s scrawny neck, pushing him painfully against a cold and grimy wall.

“You came back…” Aden saw Patchman breathe into Nico’s face. “Such a good little brother.”

“Nico…” Aden said through gritted teeth. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”

“I wasn’t going to just-” Nico paused momentarily to cough from the tight hold on his neck, “-run and leave you behind…!”

“The compatibility is truly remarkable,” Patchman murmured as he got a closer look at where his and Nico’s skin met, ignoring the brothers’ discussion. “I don’t see any burns or decay… I made the right choice…”

Neither Nico nor Aden was listening to him. Their eyes were completely focused on the light emitting from the hand that was choking Nico.

“You can see the Lights now… good. Yes… I have been waiting for so long.”

Nico’s eyes narrowed warily as the light flowed from Patchman’s hand and to Nico’s neck where it glowed brighter for a few moments before it sunk under the boy’s skin. Aden’s eyes narrowed as well. Was it just his imagination, or was the blue light somehow… _darker_ than before?

“I’ve always been searching… for something with the ability to withstand this enormous power.”

Patchman’s free arm moved to the back of his head. Nico and Aden’s eyes widened and they gaped at the sight of Patchman nonchalantly pulling out the axe lodged into his shoulder.

He didn’t even pause in his monologue.

“Until now, I’ve barely been able to keep my vessel from falling apart… by patching it up and replacing decayed parts with these… _inferior_ ones,” he said as he glanced at his large body with disgust. “I would prefer to wait for you to grow a little more… but I’ve grown impatient in the years I’ve waited for your brother’s vessel to mature.”

“You sick bastard!” Nico hissed at him in fury as he – futilely – kicked his short legs at the monster. “What did you do to us?! What do you want from us?!”

Patchman chuckled in amusement before he answered Nico’s first question. “What I did… I did it to save your life.” He ran his free hand down Nico’s new right arm. “How is it? Your brother’s arm, that is…?”

Even from his position on the ground, Aden saw how quickly Nico’s blue face – from lack of oxygen – turned white and almost immediately turned green.

It would have been funny if the cause of Nico’s rapid change of color – Patchman’s earlier words – hadn’t finally sunk in Aden’s dazed mind.

_Oh_ , Aden thought as he took a closer look at Nico’s – once Aden’s – scarred right arm. _So that’s where my arm went_.

xXXx

“Th-That’s a lie!” Nico protested shakily. “This isn’t- It can’t be…!”

“I understand that you’re still in shock…” Patchman said, “but I had no choice. After the accident… while your brother suffered quite a few serious injuries, you were already knocking on death’s door. Broken bones, torn flesh… it was truly a tragic sight.”

Patchman’s monologue was taking too long. Nico was losing consciousness. Aden was already out.

“My vision of using your Perfect Vessel was at stake. I truly needed you to live… at least, until you’re just a little older. And your brother is already old enough and he doesn’t even need two arms like you do…”

Patchman grinned.

“Then, I thought… Yes, that’s it! Eureka!” he cackled. “One will die…” his eyes darted to Aden. “In order for the other to live,” his black eyes returned to Nico’s smaller form. “Oh, it was like a puzzle!” the madman continued. “Which pieces were useful… which ones were unnecessary…? I only needed to throw out the useless parts and fix what was broken like always.”

Nico wasn’t even listening anymore. His eyes were focused on the boy laying still behind the monster. In Nico’s hazy mind, Aden’s from shifted. First he was Aden, Nico’s big brother. Then, he was Jason, the first person Nico would call his friend. After that he turned into a she. Hazel, the sister he never expected to love so much. Then, Bianca, the sister he was never good enough for. And finally, Percy… the hero Nico failed to save.

“You brothers should feel honored… your souls and bodies will be the key to our world’s future!”

He was going out… just like that…? But he hadn’t stopped… the end of the world… he hasn’t saved anyone yet…

Chronos shouldn’t have picked him… Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Hazel… anyone would have been a better choice than him.

The burden was too heavy for him… this was too much…

He can’t do anything… He can’t protect anyone… He can’t save the world…

He was too weak.

_I’m tired of being so weak…_

“Not yet…” Nico mumbled. Patchman stopped chuckling and looked at him with interest.

_These scars, these wounds… they’re proof of my weakness… I hate them!_

Nico gritted his teeth and moved up his – _Aden’s_ – right arm to grip onto the hand around his neck.

_I hate how pathetic I am!_

Nico screamed.

xXXx

Light burst from Nico’s body. It shot out in beams from his scars. The scars on his cheeks, torso and arms glowed brightly. The scar on his nose flickered like a white flame. The scars on his right shoulder made it look like a wing of light was growing out of it. His new right arm was covered in the bright light like he was wearing a white sleeve and his right hand looked like it was covered in a white clawed glove.

Patchman stumbled away from him.

Aden regained consciousness from feeling the warmth Nico’s light radiated. He opened his eyes just in time to see Nico place his left hand on his right forearm before he pointed his shining arm at Patchman and _fired_ a beam of light at the large man.

Not only did the force of the beam send Patchman flying, it also began to disintegrate him. “Such immense power… Such pure light… How fantastic!” he cackled.

With a final push of his arm, Nico made the beam of light brighter and more intense. Aden saw Patchman’s body completely disappear before he had to close his eyes from the bright light. The previously comforting warmth had multiplied and now burned Aden’s skin like fire.

_BOOM!_

Aden was thrown back a couple of meters and Nico had to cover his eyes with his left arm while he did his best to stay on his feet from the force of something exploding. There was nothing but the sound of rocks, cement and other debris falling to the floor for a few seconds before Aden coughed and opened his eyes in search of his little brother.

“Nico…” Aden called out weakly. His entire body hurt. But that didn’t matter. Right now, he had to find Nico and make sure that he was okay.

“Aden,” he heard Nico call out from somewhere in the dust and rubble. Somehow, it seemed like the dirty room had gotten brighter.

Aden looked up and gasped.

The ceiling had been completely destroyed. There were five deep indents of different lengths surrounding a large hole where sunlight shone through. The indents looked like five fingers while the hole looked like a palm.

Right under the large handprint, standing in the sunlight was his little brother.

Nico’s scars were still glowing, but not as intensely as before. His right hand and right shoulder still emitted the white light. It looked like Nico’s hand was covered in a white flame and a small wing of bright flames was growing out of his right shoulder.

“Aden,” Nico called out again when the dust finally settled enough for him to be able to see Aden clearly. “I…” Nico began to say something, but stopped himself when he saw the disbelief and caution in Aden’s brown eyes. The flames on his right arm extinguished and the light receded until every part of Nico was no longer glowing.

Then, another explosion was heard. This one sounded far off and didn’t leave much of an impact as the one Nico made. It was the first of many. The entire building – wherever they were – was shaking. After the third explosion went off, Nico and Aden exchanged panicked glances.

They needed to get out of here – _right now_.

Nico ran to Aden and tried to help him stand up, “Come on.” But Aden could barely move, let alone walk. The pain from earlier was gone. His entire body was numb. After Aden fell a second time, Nico got on his knees and pulled Aden onto his back. Even after Nico stood up, Aden’s legs still dragged the floor. He wasn’t sure where to go, even if he did, he didn’t think he could get the two of them out in time. Still, Nico walked forward.

“Nico… go ahead…” Aden whispered to Nico’s ear. “I’ll…”

“Shut up…!” Nico hissed as tears stung his eyes from how limp his one-armed big brother felt on his small back. “We’re _both_ getting out of here, got it?!”

“You’re really strong, Nico…” Aden murmured instead. “I’m so proud of you…” Aden rested his head on Nico’s shoulder so his little brother could see his smile.

“No…!” Nico said through gritted teeth. He took little comfort from the fading heartbeat he felt against his back. “Don’t…! Don’t say it like-!” he sniffed.

_-Like this is your last chance to say anything._

“Hey, there’s something I haven’t told you before,” Aden continued weakly. His mouth was right next to Nico’s ear. So Nico could hear him loud and clear despite the building collapsing around them. “I can see fairies and monsters… ever since my parents died. But they don’t bother me… and they’re actually pretty easy to ignore, so I didn’t think it was important to tell you before… sorry…”

Whether it was true or not, Nico didn’t care. He only wanted his brother to stop sounding so sad and defeated. Better yet, Aden should just shut up right now. To keep Aden from saying anything else, Nico told him, “I’m actually a demigod.” He chuckled lightly. “Betcha’ didn’t know that, did you? I was born before the start of World War II and had a sister named Bianca. My mother was Maria di Angelo and my father is the Greek god of the Underworld, Hades.”

Aden’s sleepy smile widened. “I’m glad you told me that… No more secrets…”

Aden’s grip on Nico’s shoulders loosened. “No, don’t go to sleep!” Nico insisted as tears rolled down his cheeks – he felt relief for finally revealing such a big part of who he was to Aden, he felt grief because it may very well be the last thing he ever said to his big brother. Still, he kept walking. “Aden, stay awake!”

“That arm…” Aden said as he eyed Nico’s new arm. “I’m glad it was able to help you…” he lifted his left hand and let it rest on top of Nico’s head. “Don’t let it… go to waste…”

The ceiling crumbled and fell towards the two brothers.

Aden wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing. His heart wasn’t beating.

Nico screamed, “ADEN!”

xXXx

It’s been almost six months since the incident known as the Atwood Orphanage Slaughter. Nico was currently sitting in a cab on his way to the prestigious private academy his father was sending him to.

Everyone at the Atwood Orphanage had died that stormy March day. The man who had run over Aden and Nico had called an ambulance – presumably to help the two boys he had run over – just before Patchman killed him too.

The police had searched the manor from top to bottom. Every orphan, matron and worker had been accounted for except for two orphan boys, Aden and Nicolas. They spent three days and nights searching for the missing boys until, on the fourth morning reports came in about an abandoned hospital at the far edge of London – left standing for over twenty years because of its old and long history of ghost sightings – exploding.

In the rubble, they found human parts – a few heads, numerable limbs and countless organs – corpses and a scarred boy.

One of the corpses was that of the missing orphan boy, Aden. The scarred boy – the only survivor of both the explosion and the slaughter – was the other orphan, Nico.

The name Patchman was brought up at the discovery of the body parts. When asked, Nico described the person responsible in as much detail as he could. The officer noted that Nico’s description matched other witnesses’ descriptions of…

“He’s gone now,” Nico said before the officer could remember the name. When asked who Nico meant, he said, “Patchman. Patchman’s gone. He died in the explosion.”

Of course, no one believed him but at the same time, no one could be sure. There were sixteen corpses – including his Aden’s – found in the rubble. Three of them were completely unidentifiable. Any other possible evidence had been destroyed or burned to ash by the explosion.

That was the last time his name was ever associated with a case in the past five months. In the ten years since Patchman was given his name, three months was his longest period of inactivity. Someone always dies before the hundredth day.

A hundred days after the explosion, the Londoners were on their guard. New Scotland Yard kept their eye on cases that had even the slightest similarity to Patchman’s modus operandi. A couple of sloppy copycat criminals were apprehended, but it was obvious that none of them were the one they were looking for.

On the one-hundred-tenth day, a few people began to tentatively believe Nico’s claim of the Modern Jack the Ripper being dead.

On the one-hundred-forty-eighth day, every newspaper and magazine began to print tabloids and articles on the possibility of his death. Serious debates were popping up all over the country. People, one by one, heaved a sigh of relief. Sure, some were still holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the number lessened each day.

Where was Nico during all of this?

He was stuck in a hospital for an entire month.

A week after the explosion and Aden’s body was finally taken out of autopsy, a large funeral was announced soon to be held for the victims of the Atwood Orphanage Slaughter tragedy.

On the day before, a marker was made and placed where Atwood Orphanage once stood as a tribute to Patchman’s countless victims and the victims of the Atwood Orphanage Slaughter tragedy. The revealing was attended by many. Nico didn’t attend because his doctors wouldn’t let him, despite his almost miraculous rapid healing. But he was told that there were lots of flowers. The marker looked like a black pyramid as tall as the average man. On the pyramid was a list off all of Patchman’s known victims and their date of death. Aden’s name had just been the last one in the long list of deceased.

The next day, Nico was able to convince the doctors that he was healthy enough to attend. But when he was asked to give a eulogy, Nico claimed that he was too sick to stand and talk in front of everyone. The priest only gave him an understanding nod.

Nico had been the only one allowed to look in the caskets. When it was time to open Aden’s casket, Nico felt someone grab his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. By then, Nico just wanted to lie back down in his crisp white hospital bed.

The procession had been slow and long. Nico took note of how different the entire process was compared to the funerals he attended in Camp Half-Blood.

When they reached the graveyard, Nico couldn’t bring himself to step through the wrought iron gates. He leant against the gate as he listened to the attendees sing a mournful hymn and the clergy give the eulogy.

The boy took note of how bright and cloudless the sky looked.

Nico returned to the car that brought him here when he heard the sound of shoveling and dirt hitting something hard.

Nearly two hours later, back at the hospital, Nico sat on his bed – without taking his black suit off – and let out a heart wrenching wail without a care of who would hear him.

xXXx

She visited the boy in his dreams.

Nico dreamt of a woman he had never met before. She was tall and very good-looking, in a way that could only be described as wickedly beautiful. In her hand was a silver spindle with gold thread. She wore an ancient ornate tiara on her head and her body was covered by white silk.

Nico could immediately tell that she was not human.

“My Lady,” he greeted her respectfully with a slight bow.

“Greetings, son of Hades,” she said to him with a soft smile, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “I am Ananke, the Mother of Destiny, Fate and Necessity.”

Although, the boy was one of the most frequent victims of Fate, this was the first time she allowed herself to face him like this. Actually, this was the first time she had faced any mortal in over a thousand years.

“Recently, your little… _assignment_ was brought to my attention,” she said as her eyes focused on his small form and her hands fiddled with the spindle.

Nico instantly put his guard up. He eyed her warily as he debated with his fight or flight instincts.

Ananke chuckled daintily and said, “There is nothing that happens in any world without my knowing. No matter how sneaky Chronos is, there is nothing he can do that can escape my attention for very long.”

Nico paled.

Seeing how nervous the young demigod was getting, Ananke gave him a reassuring smile and waved the spindle around in one hand. “Do not be afraid, I am not here to hurt you,” she said. “Actually, I came here bearing news and a gift for you.”

Nico’s shoulders sagged slightly in relief. “Really? You’re not mad for… trying to change Fate?” he asked just to be sure.

She smirked. “True, it is not often for anyone – god or mortal – to be reckless enough to dare to defy me. For anyone to defy me _and_ succeed is definitely a first.” She winked at him.

Nico raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

She admitted, she was surprised when she felt the disturbance – the crack in the carved Stone called Fate, the snagged thread within the Loom called Destiny – and she had… freaked out for a short while (“This has never happened before! This is impossible! All of my plans are always carried out _perfectly_ and _as they should_ -! Who could have…? … _CHRONOS!_ ), but just as she was about to smite the small demigod that was the cause of all her turmoil – even if he was one of her favorite pawns, _no one messes with The Plan_ – Chronos stopped her and told her to: “Just watch.”

And watch she did.

And just as she was about to turn back to Chronos, tell him ‘I was right, you were wrong’ before she went about fixing his mess – again – she saw the small demigod completely destroy her previously well-thought-out Plans with a bright burst of intense light.

Ananke was silent for a few eternities. (Eternities, hours, seconds… really there was no difference to beings like her and Chronos.)

Huh. So that’s what ‘shock’ feels like.

It feels… _refreshing._ Ananke decided that she likes how it feels.

So, here she was, gracing the small demigod responsible with her audience to pat him on the back for a job well done.

She couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face even if she tried. Chronos predicted that it would stay on her face for as long as this small demigod shall live… which is longer than it had been the first time around. “I will not tell you anything that could spoil the future… however I can say you that thanks to you, we have one less apocalypse to worry about.”

Both of Nico’s eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. “Then… the horrible being with a stolen weapon of the gods is… it was…!”

“The one you know as Patchman.”

After a few moments of shocked silence – mostly from Nico, Ananke just kept smiling – the Son of Hades breathlessly said, “So… that’s it… That’s all you came to say?”

“No, actually there’s more,” Ananke admitted with a shake of her head. “As thanks for carrying out this task for us, we – that is Lord Chaos, Chronos and I – have all decided to bestow a gift to you from each of us.”

Nico’s shock doubled. From Ananke had gathered, the only person this boy knew to have been offered a gift from the gods was the boy called Perseus Jackson. And this boy would be receiving three. Wasn’t he lucky?

“Lord Chaos already has something in mind as his gift, however he will only bestow when the time is right.”

Nico nodded. “Tell him, he has my thanks,” he said respectfully.

Ananke smiled at him. “Now, Chronos and I have chosen to let you decide what our gift to you should be – like a wish. Go ahead, ask me for anything… right now.”

“Really?” Nico asked. “I get to ask for anything at all… and you’d be okay with it.”

Ananke nodded reassuringly. Of course, she already knew what he would ask from her, but she still had to ask… to be polite.

Nico barely took a minute to think of what he wanted. “I want to see what Aden’s first life was like,” he requested desperately.

Ananke wasn’t surprised in the least – she wished she were. “Are you sure? As I’ve said, you could ask for anything. Eternal wealth, world peace… _resurrection_ …” she hinted.

Nico shook his head. “Chronos told me that just by being here, I’ve changed the Fates of so many people and not all of it for the better… I just don’t want to cause any more damage than I already have. I want to look at Aden’s life from before because I want to convince myself that I didn’t completely ruin my big brother’s life by just _being_ in it.”

Ananke’s smile turned soft and understanding. These thoughts had haunted him for quite some time. She could tell.

“I knew you were going to say that,” she crouched down to his level. “And just for that, I shall show you Aden Hunt’s previous life for free. That way, you still have two wishes to collect – one from me and one from Chronos.”

The boy was silent for a few seconds. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

xXXx

For the rest of the night, Nico dreamt of the boy known as Aden Hunt.

Nico saw haw happy and normal Aden’s life was for the first ten years of his life.

He saw Aden’s parents get murdered by a monster on a stormy night.

He saw Aden sobbing non-stop at their funeral a few days later.

He saw Aden rubbing his eyes and gaping in disbelief the first time he laid eyes on a monster, a week after the funeral. A few days later, everyone had convinced him that the monsters were only figments of his imagination. Aden decided that it easier to just pretend that they weren’t there.

He saw more quiet and jaded Aden on his first day at the orphanage.

He saw a slightly livelier – not necessarily happier – Aden become friends with the girl name Rei Butler before she was forced to move away to Japan.

He saw Aden return to the orphanage on the day before summer half term… this time, there was no dark haired little boy with a broken arm waiting in the kitchen to be introduced to the other orphans.

He saw a barely fourteen-year-old Aden sneak into New Scotland Yard to look for files regarding his parents’ killer, Patchwork Patchman. He was thrown out not three minutes after stepping through the doors.

Aden did this seven more times until he gave up going to the police and decided to search for Patchman on his own.

He saw Aden brought back to the orphanage many times by officers after he’d been reported missing by the matrons.

After going missing for the seventeenth time, Aden wasn’t brought back.

Aden Hunt was reported missing at fifteen.

Nico saw Aden cross borders, oceans and mountains… if there was even a small rumor of Patchman, Aden would follow it.

One day, his newest lead pointed Aden to Europe.

He returned to London at twenty-one.

Nico saw Aden’s reunion with Rei Butler, who had joined New Scotland Yard and was the officer in charge of the case regarding Patchman’s latest victim. Rei had been both thrilled and sad to see Aden again. The two of them fought over Aden’s life choices and where they were leading him for a short while before Aden stormed away.

Later in the night, while he was walking through the streets of London, Aden saw Patchman. With his goal of revenge the only thing on his mind, Aden gave chase.

Just when Aden thought he would lose the murderer’s trail once more, Rei came over to him in a car – almost running him over – and told him to get in.

They chased Patchman for a few minutes together before the monster – jumping from a roof – landed on the hood of the car. In her surprise, Rei lost control of the car and drove into a wall.

He saw Aden’s broken body being pulled out of the destroyed vehicle, leaving the dead Rei Butler in the driver’s seat.

Aden’s body was… modified by Patchman the same way Nico’s was. Still, he ended up with only one arm. When Patchman had mostly healed him, he used his strange power to suck out green light from Aden. It took Nico a while to realize that what Patchman pulled out was Aden’s soul.

When he woke up, Aden was no longer the same. He could only be described as a mindless puppet.

Some time passed, Aden was used as nothing more than a butler to serve Patchman and his unidentified followers.

A few months since Rei’s death, one of his followers returned and handed Patchman an old broken sword. Patchman smiled jovially and – with grim satisfaction – he drove it through Aden’s torso.

Aden was covered in bright silver light. As the light grew in intensity, something else grew from Aden’s right shoulder.

It was an arm of silver.

The dream ended.

xXXx

She was weaving. She was smiling. She had been doing those things ever since the world’s Fate changed and its existence was guaranteed. All thanks to one small demigod.

“‘I shall show you Aden Hunt’s previous life… _for free_ ~!’” Chronos snickered while he watched her work.

Ananke kept smiling. Nothing could ruin her good mood for now. “I like the boy. Can you blame me for spoiling him?”

“He only stopped the world from ending,” Chronos shrugged like it was no big deal. “He didn’t save all of it from destruction-”

“He did as he was asked to,” Ananke protested. “He did enough.”

Chronos sent her an unamused scowl. “That’s not why you gave him that free pass, was it?”

“No,” she admitted. “It was…” she paused as her eyes became cloudy, as if she were looking at something far away. “…compensation. For the pain I will have to make him go through again.”

Chronos understood what she meant. One of the main reasons for that boy’s existence, why he was made to live for as long as he had – even if most of that time was spent trapped somewhere outside of the flow of time – was so he could one day meet the one he would fall in love with. It was his Destiny and the world’s Necessity. The boy’s strong love for hat one person would ensure the second fall of the Titans and the Giants and it would keep his beloved alive long enough to save the world quite a few times.

In very few words, the purpose of that boy’s existence is to ensure the continued existence of another.

Chronos decided to take a small peek into the near future. He wanted to see if the Son of Hades would still-

-Woah! Hold on!

“Wh-What-? Ananke, are you _seeing_ this?” Chronos questioned without keeping his eyes off of the small tear into the future he had made.

Ananke nodded and chuckled. “You can think of it as payback for going behind my back like that,” she said as she took a momentary peek herself. Her smile widened. “As you said, his changed existence would change the lives and Fates of many. This one is just one of those many.”

She smirked at him. Ananke was _smirking_ at him. Sure, his little plan had changed a lot, but this… this was Ananke’s doing. She changed Fate on purpose…!

Chronos gave a loud barking laughing as he observed the interaction between the newly discovered anomaly and Hades’ son.

This… All of this was just so... _unexpected_! Oh, the surprise was thrilling!

No wonder Ananke couldn’t stop smiling.

Chronos would be looking forward to the request the Son of Hades would ask of him. Oh, if only he could make time speed up somehow.

xXXx

“Nico di Angelo?”

“…”

“My name is Megan Collera, I am a lawyer working for your father.”

“… my father?”

“Yes, he saw your picture in the newspapers and immediately recognized you as his missing son.”

“…”

“He’s taken custody and guardianship of you. He says he wants to take care of you.”

“…”

“You’ll be moved to a hospital in Washington D.C. until you’ve fully recovered.”

“America…? Why?”

“Because that’s where your father lives. Now, as soon as you’re better, you will be enrolled in a prestigious private boarding school in New York. Any questions?”

“Yeah… can I change my name?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the third chappie~!  
> To everyone who celebrates it, MERRY CHRISTMAS!  
> To those who don't, I wish you all the best for the new year!


	4. enter percy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's journey to Camp Half-Blood with his friends, Grover and Nico.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter will mostly be in Percy's POV. I want Percy and Nico's relationship to be believable and since they're so young, they're gonna start of as (mostly one-sided) friends before transitioning to something more. I hope I did a godd job with this... -_-"

****

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Chapter 3 – enter percy

"I'm gonna kill her," twelve-year-old Percy Jackson mumbled.

Grover Underwood, his best friend tried to calm him down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter."

Grover was an easy target for bullies like Nancy Bobofit. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled.

He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.

Percy was just about to get up and do something he might soon regret, but was saved from doing so by Nicholas Hunt.

Well, his name was Nicholas, but he everyone at school called him Nico. He insisted on it the first day he transferred to Yancy from London (although his accent was completely American) a year before Percy did. Nico was the smallest boy in their grade and one of the few who wore glasses. He was a quiet person. He had shaggy dark hair, pale skin and was a little on the small side. You would think that would make him an easy target for kleptomaniacs too.

Well, you’re wrong.

Nico had the scariest glare Percy had ever seen. Seriously, Percy had never thought anyone so small could be so terrifying. Everyone thought so. Even their scary math teacher, Mrs. Dodds seemed afraid of him. His choice of clothing only made him seem more intimidating. His wardrobe consisted of dark colors only – usually black – and he could always be seen with a black glove covering his right hand. There was a rumor going around that Nico wore it to cover up a tattoo of a naked lady on the back of his hand.

Personally, Percy wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.

The first time Percy witnessed Nico’s Glare of Death was on his first day at Yancy Academy. Some of the older boys had cornered Percy in front a row of lockers – one of them coincidentally belonging to Nico – and tried to shake his lunch money out of his pockets, but Nico had appeared out of nowhere – like a ghost – and shot them a glare colder than the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. Then, he hissed at them to move out of his way and the three boys – all of them twice Nico’s size – ran away pale and shaken. Of course, immediately after the older kids had relinquished Percy, Nancy Bobofit came pouncing, eager to turn Percy into another one of her victims.

Anyway, the sandwich Grover had dodged sailed straight to Nico’s head – he had been sitting in the seat in front of Grover. Nico was sitting alone, because of the odd number of students and because everyone was too afraid to sit next to him. Without looking back or anyone calling out a warning, Nico expertly dodged the edible projectile like he had eyes on the back of his head.

Then, he turned around and shot one of his fiercest glares at Nancy. The sight of his dark eyes had been enough to shut her up for the rest of the bus ride – something Percy was grateful for. Now, if only Nico could come up with a glare scary enough to shut her up for life.

The tour went as pretty much as Percy expected it to. With Mr. Brunner leading the tour and Mrs. Dodds giving him the evil eye the entire time – she hated Percy’s guts but thought that Nancy was an angel. Personally, Percy thought that Mrs. Dodds wasn’t human.

Then, Percy had to answer a question about Kronos and the gods. He was proud to say that he got the answer mostly correct. Then, Mr. Brunner explained the story about Kronos and his kids with further detail. When he got to the part about the gods scattering his remains in Tartarus, Percy swore he saw Nico – who had been standing at the very far edge of their class, like always – shiver and fidget on his feet. But, then again, that could have just been Nico’s ADHD acting up.

After Mr. Brunner’s explanation – and Percy getting a lecture about how important his studies were in real life and doing better in class – he went outside to eat with Grover and the rest of his class.

Percy took a moment to look at the stormy clouds and shivered. The freaky weather patterns had been going on since Christmas, but somehow, it felt like Percy was the only one who was worried about it. Other people didn’t seem to care or even notice.

While he had been thinking about his mom and unwrapping his lunch, Nancy Bobofit appeared and dumped her unfinished lunch on Grover’s lap.

Percy felt something in him snap.

He didn’t remember touching her, but the next thing Percy knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

Then, Mrs. Dodds materialized right in front of him. She made sure that poor Nancy was okay first (even promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop), before she turned on Percy. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if he'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. _I_ pushed her."

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looked at Percy desperately.

"It's okay, man," Percy said to him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirked.

Percy gave her his deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare (inspired by Nico’s infamous Glare of Death).

Unseen by many, Nico decided that now was a good time to get lost trying to find the restroom.

xXXx

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

Obviously, Percy had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

Did the teachers find the illegal stash of candy he’d been selling out of his dorm room…?

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

Suddenly, the door to the gallery opened. “Excuse me,” a familiar voice called out. “Can someone please tell me where the restroom is…?”

Percy turned around and saw “Ni-”

"Your time is up!" Mrs. Dodds hissed.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice Percy to ribbons.

Mrs. Dodds let out an ear piercing shriek – Percy instinctively covered his ears – and flew a few feet up before she dived towards Percy with her claws extended.

“Percy!” he heard the other person call out. Then, he felt the person ram him from behind, sending the both of them crashing to the ground. Mrs. Dodds flew over them, missing by a hair’s breadth.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air. Percy quickly got up to catch it.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at him again.

With a yelp, he dodged and felt talons slash the air next to his ear. Percy snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit his hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spun toward him with a murderous look in her eyes. She snarled, "Die, honey!" And she flew straight at him.

Percy’s legs felt like jelly. He almost dropped the sword. Absolute terror ran through his body. Percy did the only thing that came naturally: He swung the sword.

The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching him.

He was alone.

There was a ballpoint pen in him hand.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but Percy.

His hands were still trembling. His lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had Percy imagined the whole thing?

He went back outside.

It had started to rain.

A few seconds later, Nico exited the museum from behind him.

“Nico,” he called out and walked closer to the four-eyed boy. But once he was standing in front of him, Percy had no idea what to say. This always happened whenever he tried to talk to Nico – mostly, it was because the smaller boy always made it very obvious that he didn’t want to be talked to. “So…” he said awkwardly. “Did you find the restroom?”

Nico shrugged. “No, but I can hold it.” His eyes darted around to glance at the people around them warily.

“Yeah, so…” Percy tried to think of a good way to word his next question. “What happened before… with Mrs. Dodds-”

“Yeah, that,” Nico interrupted him. “I’d keep my mouth shut about it if I were you,” he cautioned. Then, he walked away, leaving Percy more confused and disoriented than before.

xXXx

Percy was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than he could handle. For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on him.

The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr-a perky blond woman whom he'd never seen in his life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip-had been their pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often he would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if he could trip them up, but they would stare at him like he was psycho.

It got so Percy almost believed them-Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

But Grover couldn't fool him.

When Percy mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. But Percy knew he was lying.

And then, there was Nico. Whenever Percy said anything even remotely Mrs. Dodds related, he’d glare at Percy and said, “I told you not to bring that up,” before walking away.

Walking away and ignoring everyhting. Nico did that a lot, Percy realized. Was that how Nico usually solved his problems? Because ignoring things was how Nico – the only other person Percy could count on for being honest to him – seemed to be dealing with this Mrs. Dodds problem.

Something was going on. Something _had_ happened at the museum.

He didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake him up in a cold sweat.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help his mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy.

One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

Percy started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. His grades slipped from Ds to Es. It would be worse if Nico hadn’t helped him with most of his studies and assignments. He claimed that Percy’s late night study sessions were keeping him awake at night. It’s not like Nico slept much at night anyway. Those dark bags under his brown eyes told Percy as much.

Percy got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. He was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when their English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked him for the millionth time why he was too lazy to study for spelling tests, Percy snapped. He called him an ‘old sot’. He wasn't even sure what it meant, but it must’ve been a good insult because he heard Nico let out a rare snort of amusement.

The headmaster sent Percy’s mom a letter the following week, making it official: He would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Fine, he told himself. Just fine.

He was homesick.

He wanted to be with his mom in their little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if he had to go to public school and put up with his obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties.

And yet . . . there were things he'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out his dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees. He'd miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even if he was a little strange.

Percy worried how Grover would survive next year without him. He'd miss Latin class, too-Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days in his faith that Percy could do well. Heck, he’d even miss Nico and his epic glares.

xXXx

"I’m worried about Percy, sir," Grover admitted one evening in Chiron – Mr. Brunner’s – office during one of his weekly reports to the centaur. “I’m afraid of leaving him alone this summer. I mean, a Kindly One in the _school_! Now that we know for sure, and _they_ know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him." Chiron said. "We need the boy to mature more."

"But he may not have time. The summer solstice dead-line-"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

"Sir, he _saw_ her . . ."

"His imagination," Chiron insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

"Sir, I . . . I can't fail in my duties again." Grover choked out. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

_Thud!_

Chiron went silent and both of them tensed.

Chiron – in his true form – cautiously stepped closer to the door with his bow and arrow at the ready. Grover took out his reed pipes and held them close to his chin.

A few tense moments latr, Chiron withdre his bow. "It was nothing," he announced. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn . . ."

“Any news on Nicholas?” Chiron asked when Grover didn’t finish his sentence.

“Nico, sir,” Grover corrected, not for the first time. It wasn’t Chiron’s fault, really. Take away his glare and Nico’s actually a pretty forgettable guy. His features were pretty unremarkable and he was always so quiet. And he usually stays out of everyone’s way unless confronted directly. Grover couldn’t even tell that he was a demigod at first. It was only when he stood behind Nico in line to get on the bus during the trip back from the museum and got a good whiff of the divine – in the most literal sense possible – scent that was a part of his natural odor did Grover realize that he was not completely human.

“He doesn’t look like any demigod I’ve met,” Grover reported. “And he doesn’t have any special traits that I know of. The scent on him is really faint. He’s probably either be the son of a minor god or a Legacy. I can’t be sure.”

Chiron hummed in thought. “I checked the school records. He lived in Maine for a while supposedly with his father before transferring here. There were no rechords of his mother. Try asking him about it some time.”

“Yes, sir,” Grover said tiredly, almost sighing at the thought of having to look out for another one. This situation with Percy was making him more than a hanfdul already, he really didn’t want to have to worry about another demigod. The last time he had to take care of more than one demigod, one of them got killed... um, got tuned into a tree... which really isn’t much better than the alternative...

"Go back to the dorm," Chiron told him, noticing how tired he looked. “You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

When Grover finally made it back to the dorm, he saw Percy sitting on Nico’s bed. Nico was lying down and ignoring the rest of the world with a scowl while Percy persistently kept talking to his back.

Percy stopped talking when Grover came in and got back to studying the previously abandonned Latin exam notes on his desk, finally giving up on talking to Nico. Really, Percy was the only person in the whole school stubborn enough to try, not that Nico seemed to mind his presence much, despite his constant disregard of Percy’s attempts at contact.

"Hey," he said to Percy, bleary-eyed. "You going to get ready for this test?"

Percy didn't answer.

"You look awful,” Grover said after taking a closer look at him. He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just . . . tired."

Grover wasn’t really convinced. But Percy had said that he was really worried about the Latin exam. Maybe he’s just stressed.

xXXx

The next afternoon, after Percy stormed out of the classroom from Chiron’s... ‘pep talk’ (Grover cringed when he remembered the hurt look on Percy’s face), Nico got up to hand in his answers. Chiron kept him back too to try to hint at his unusual heritage.

But it was as unaffective as it had been with Percy. Nico plugged his ears and listened to the music on his iPod while he nodded absentmindedly at everything Chiron said. Finally, Chiron – already frustrated after talking to Percy – had enough and let him go his way.

From his seat at the back of the class, Grover facepalmed.

xXXx

On the last day of the term, while Percy, Grover and Nico were packing their suitcases quietly, the other guys in their dorm were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like Percy, but they were _rich_ juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives or ambassadors, or celebrities. Percy was a nobody, from a family of nobodies.

They asked him what he'd be doing this summer and he told them he was going back to the city.

What Percy didn't tell them was that he'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, and spend his free time worrying about where he'd go to school in the fall.

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool."

“What are you going to do, Hunt?” another asked Nico.

Nico unplugged one of his ears and raised an eyebrow. Percy repeated the question for the guy.

“I don’t know,” Nico shrugged nonchalantly. “Probably stay in Maine, maybe fly back to London for a bit. Either way, it’s not like my dad would care.”

“What does your dad do?” Grover asked curiously. Percy paused in his packing, he was more interested to listen to Nico’s answer.

“I don’t know,” Nico said again. “I’ve never even met the guy.”

There was a second of awkward silence. Unexpectedly, Grover was the one who broke it. “Well, if you don’t have anything better to do this summer, why don’t you spend it with me at ca- my place?”

Shrugging off Grover’s stuttering, Nico glanced at his packed bag for a second before giving his answer. “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

With that settled, Percy continued packing. He was glad that Grover had offered to spend the summer with Nico. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of Nico being alone this summer had made him feel uneasy.

xXXx

Grover had booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as Percy had, so there they were, together again, heading into the city. Of course, as agreed, Nico was with him too.

Nico had his ears plugged and his music played on full blast in the seat behind Grover and Percy. During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. He was keeping an eye out for monsters. Having the two demigods – he was pretty sure that Nico was one too – in the same place was bound to attract some unwanted attention.

"Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha- what do you mean?" he asked Percy while shooting a few glances at Nico – who was conveniently ignoring them in favour of choosing what song to play next.

Percy confessed to eavesdropping on Grover and Chiron’s discussion a few weeks back. Grover tried to act like what they talkd about wasn’t that big of a deal but Percy wasn’t fooled. He pressed on, asking Grover questions about the summer solstice deadline and Mrs. Dodds.

Grover understood how resilient Percy could be. So, he gave up on lying. From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

Written on it was:

_Grover Underwood_

_Keeper_

_Half-Blood Hill_

_Long Island, New York_

_(800) 009-0009_

"What's Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" Grover yeled, his eyes darting around in alarm. "That's my, um . . . summer address. It’s where I’m taking Nico."

"Okay." Percy said, suddenly glum much to Grover’s confusion. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion." Mansion? Oh...

He nodded. "Or . . . or if you need me."

"Why would I need you?"

Now Grover was the one who feeling down. "Look Percy, the truth is, I-I kind of have to protect you."

Percy gave him a blank stare. He must be thinkng of all the times bullies like Nancy Bobofit had picked on and tortured Grover and of the many times Percy had gotten into trouble trying to save him.

"Grover," he said, "What exactly are you protecting me from?"

There was a huge grinding noise under their feet. Nico unplugged his ears in surprise. The three looked to the front of the bus to see black smoke poured from the dashboard. The whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that they'd all have to get off. The boys filed outside with everybody else.

They were on a stretch of country road – no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On the boys’ side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of blood red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting a pair of socks big enough for a cyclops.

But the socks and elcetric blue yarn weren’t what caused Grover to turn pale as a ghost. It was the three women knitting them. All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

Grover and every other being of the mythological world would recognize them anywhere. They also knew that any sighting of those three could not bode well for anyone.

And right now they were looking _right at Percy_.

Percy noticed them staring at him too. He turned to Grover, possibly to ask about them. "Grover?" Percy said. "Hey, man-"

"Tell me they're not looking at you,” Grover said, not having the nerve to look at the three ancient beings any longer. “They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?"

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

Nico had turned around to see what the other boys were making such a fuss about.

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors-gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. Grover’s breath caught.

"Percy and I are getting on the bus," he told Nico while tugging at Percy’s arm. Nico shrugged to show exactly how much he cared about his sudden decision. "Come on," insisted to Percy.

"What?" Percy said. "It's thousand degrees in there."

"Come on!" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but Percy stayed back.

Across the road, the old women were still watching him. The middle one cut the yarn, and Grover swore he could hear that _snip_ across four-lanes of traffic.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Grover was already on the bus and was looking out the window to see Percy waiting in line to get on. Nico, on the other hand, held back to stare at the old women longer.

Grover took a glance back at them too. He saw one of the women – it wasn’t the one who cut the thread, so it had to be either Clotho or Lachesis, Grover wasn’t too sure – say something. Her mouth was moving slowly and delibrately as if she was trying to get the person she was talking to to understand her, depite the lanes of traffic between them.

She was looking at Nico. She was trying to tell him something.

Grover wasn’t a very good lip reader, so he couldn’t tell what she was trying to say. He looked back at Nico. The bespectacled boy was no longer paying any attention to the women and now had his ears plugged up again.

Grover groaned and slid down his seat. Honestly, he liked Percy and Nico – he thought of the two of them as his friends, even if they might not think of him as theirs. But he swore, one day, they were going to be the death of him.

xXXx

Whenever he got upset, Grover’s bladder acted up. Nico announced that he was going to buy a drink before he made a beeline for the soda machine. Grover made Percy promise to wait for him and Nico before he went to look for the nearest restroom.

Naturally, Percy wasn’t there when he got out.

“Where’s Percy?” he asked Nico, who was nonchalantly drinking a can of Coke.

The other boy looked around. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I thought he’d be with you.”

Grover groaned in a mixture of frustration and anxiety.

Nico, tentatively and uncharacteristically, held out his can to him in a silent offer. Grover took it and noted that it was half-empty just as he preferred. He finished the soda in three big gulps before he – after shooting a glance at Nico to make sure that he wasn’t looking – took a large bite of the can. It helped soothe his aching stomach slightly but his nerves were still on end.

Okay, so Percy wasn’t here… maybe he just got bored waiting for Grover and went ahead to his apartment. Yeah, that has to be it. And it wasn’t that bad. His mom had been able to keep him from being detected for _twelve_ _years_. She was obviously a very smart woman. And Nico was still here. He hadn’t failed yet.

Yeah, Grover thought positively, his worries slightly soothed. Percy was with his mom, she could keep him hidden for a little while longer. Even if he wanted to go get Percy now, Grover didn’t know where he lived…but Chiron might. So, the best course of action would be to get Nico to camp, get Percy’s address from Chiron and then go looking for him. Sounds like a plan.

“Come on,” he called out to Nico after he finished with the can. “We need to take a taxi to get to where we’re going.”

xXXx

That night, a vicious hurricane attacked Long Island. If that wasn’t strange enough – it was too early in the summer for a hurricane – Percy dreamt about a horse and an eagle fighting each other on the beach. It had been scary enough to startle him awake. Not that he could have stayed asleep for very long anyway, not with the heart racing boom of thunder rattling the windows of the cabin where he and his mom were staying. His mom woke up soon after he did.

Suddenly, they heard something approach the cabin before there was something pounding on their cabin door and someone yelling desperately for an answer.

Percy’s mother sprang out of bed in a nightgown and threw open the lock.

Much to Percy’s shock, Grover and Nico stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. Well… Percy thought the other… _person_ with Nico was Grover. They certainly resembled him enough… or, at least, the top half did.

Nico’s voice drew Percy out of his state of shock. “We’ve been searching… all night,” Nico gasped out. “You weren’t at the apartment… the bald guy said you’d be here,” he huffed. ‘Bald guy’? Did he mean Smelly Gabe?

“What were you thinking?” Grover questioned Percy as soon as he caught his breath.

Their presence seemed to make Percy’s mother scared. She wasn’t scared of Grover and Nico, but of why they’d come.

“Percy!” she shouted over the rain. “What happened at school? What didn’t you tell me?”

“ _O Zeu kai alloi theoi!_ ” Grover yelled at Percy. “Didn’t you tell her?”

Nico, on the other hand, kept shooting anxious looks at the line of trees near the cabin. “It was right behind us,” he said, his dark eyes still searching.

Percy went back into shock. Grover had just cursed in Ancient Greek and he’d understood every word perfectly. He was shocked to see two friends he thought he’d never see again – and just how did they even get here by themselves in the middle of the night? He was shocked to see that Grover didn’t have his pants on… and where his legs should be… where his legs should be were a pair of…

Percy was snapped out of his shock a second time – this time by his mother. “ _Percy_ ,” she said sternly. “Tell me _now_!”

“No time,” Nico interrupted. “We need to leave, like _five minutes ago_ ,” he stressed urgently.

Percy’s mom grabbed her purse and tossed Percy his jacket. “Get to the car,” she instructed. “All of you. _Go_!”

Nico and Grover ran for the Camaro. Percy stared after them – at Grover and the way he ran specifically. He couldn’t help it.

Because where his feet should be, there were no feet. There were cloven hooves.

xXXx

Percy continued staring in the car – he was sitting in the back seat in between Grover and Nico – while his mom drove through the rain and wind without ever lifting her foot off the gas. But no matter how much he stared, Grover’s legs were still… still…

“So, you guys and my mom… know each other?” Percy asked them, trying to distract himself.

“Not exactly,” Grover answered. Nico said nothing, opting to keep his eyes on the rear view mirror, though there were no cars behind them. “I mean, we’ve never met, but she knew about me. She knew I was watching you.”

“Watching me?”

“Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn’t faking being your friend,” he added hastily. “I _am_ your friend.”

“Um… what _are_ you, exactly?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.”

“It doesn’t matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey-”

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Nico said, taking his eyes off of the rear view mirror for a moment to shoot Percy a disapproving look.

“ _Blaa-ha-ha!_ ” Grover let out an irritated bleat. “Goat!”

“What?”

“I’m a _goat_ from the waist down.”

“You just said it didn’t matter.”

“ _Blaa-ha-ha!_ There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!”

“Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like… Mr. Brunner’s myths?”

“Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a _myth_ , Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?”

“So you _admit_ there was a Mrs. Dodds!”

“Not this again,” Nico groaned unhelpfully.

“What old ladies?” Mrs. Jackson asked from the driver seat. “And by Mrs. Dodds, do you mean that pre-algebra teacher you wrote to me about? Percy, you know, you still haven’t answered my question.”

Percy quickly told her about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds – he even included Nico’s involvement which seemed to surprise Grover. His mom turned paler at every word.

To take some attention off of him, Percy asked Grover about Mrs. Dodds again and why he pretended that she didn’t exist for so long.

“The less you knew, the fewer monsters you’d attract,” Grover explained in a tone that suggested that it should be perfectly obvious. “We put Mist over the humans’ eyes. We hoped you’d think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are.”

“Who I- wait a minute, what do you mean?”

A weird bellowing noise rose up somewhere behind them. It sounded close. Nico must’ve gotten a look at it in the rear view mirror because immediately after the noise died down, he turned in his seat to look out the back windshield worriedly.

“Percy,” his mom said, “there’s too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety.”

“Um… Him _and_ Nico, actually,” Grover inputted, “Although, the thing after us only wants Percy. No pressure or anything.”

“What?” his mom took a closer look at Nico through the rear view mirror. “You’re one too?” she asked Nico who had resettled in his seat.

Before Nico could form an answer, Percy said, “Safety from what? Who’s after me?”

“Oh, nobody much,” Grover said, “just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions.”

“Not helping, Grover,” Nico said to him.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?”

Percy tried to wrap his mind around what was happening, but he couldn’t do it. He knew this wasn’t a dream. He had no imagination. He could never dream up something this weird.

Percy’s mom made a hard left. They swerved onto a narrow road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“The summer camp I told you about.” His mother’s voice was tight; she was trying for Percy’s sake not to be scared. “The place your father wanted to send you.”

“The place you didn’t want me to go.”

“Please, dear,” his mother begged. “This is hard enough. Try to understand. You’re in danger.”

“Because some old ladies cut yarn.”

“Those weren’t old ladies,” Grover said. “Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means – the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you’re about to… when someone’s about to die.”

“Whoa. You said ‘you’.”

“No, I didn’t. I said ‘someone’.”

“Mrs. Jackson, look out!” Nico called out suddenly, pulling at the passenger’s seat in front of him in alarm.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right and Percy got a glimpse of the figure she’d swerved to avoid – a dark fluttering shape now lost behind them in the storm.

“What was that?” Percy asked.

“We’re almost there,” his mom said, ignoring his question. “Another mile. Please. Please. Please.”

There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling _BOOM!_ And the car exploded.

xXXx

Sally remembered feeling weightless, like she was being crushed, fried and hosed down all at once. She peeled herself from the rapidly deflating air bag with only one thing in mind. “Percy…?” she called out blearily.

“Ow,” she heard him groan.

“Percy!” she shouted in alarm.

“I’m okay,” he replied.

She shook off the daze. Percy wasn’t dead – _she_ wasn’t dead. The car was in a ditch and the driver’s side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open and rain was pouring in.

They’d been struck by lightning.

The realization hit her hard. She should have known that this would happen. She should have seen this coming. _He_ had warned her of this countless times. _He_ told her of the danger she and their unborn child would be in. _He_ said a lot of people – monsters and gods – would be after him. _He_ told her to take her to camp as soon as possible. It was the only place their child could be safe.

But she didn’t listen. She got too full of herself. She thought that if she read up about this – about _His_ world and all the dangers in it – if she was prepared enough, she could take care of Percy on her own. She wouldn’t have to send him away. She could keep him close to her.

She was selfish.

She only thought of herself and the pain _she_ would be in if Percy went away. She didn’t think about Percy’s pain or how much at risk he would be if he stayed-

“Grover!” Percy’s yell of alarm snapped her out of her dark thoughts.

Sally couldn’t move very well. She couldn’t turn around to see if Percy and the other boys were okay.

What if they weren’t? Oh gods, if Grover and Nico… Her foolish decision had gotten them hurt…

“Food,” she heard Grover groan. She felt relief, but what about Nico?

She heard glass shattering and a grunt. Sally turned her head – as much as she could – in alarm. She saw Nico crawling out of the wrecked car and into the rain through the broken window of the back seat on the passenger’s side.

As soon as he was out, Nico crouched down and held his hand out to Percy through the broken window. “Come on,” he called out to him.

Just before Percy could reach Nico’s hand, there was a flash of lightning. It lit up the scene enough for Percy to see through the mud spattered windshield and see a large bulky figure lumbering toward them on the shoulder of the road.

Sally saw it too.

“Percy,” she said, deadly serious. “Got out of the car.”

He took Nico’s hand and was carefully pulled out of the car.

“Percy, you have to run,” Sally told him hurriedly. “Do you see that big tree?”

“ _What_?”

Another flash of lightning. In the sudden light, Percy saw the tree she meant. The huge pine tree at the crest of the nearest hill.

“That’s the property line,” she said. “Get over that hill and you’ll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don’t look back. Yell for help. Don’t stop until you reach the door.”

“Mom, you’re coming too.” Percy’s knelt down and looked at her through the cracked window of the passenger’s seat.

Unbidden, Sally’s earlier thoughts returned to her. It must’ve shown on her face because then Percy shouted, “No! You _are_ coming with us.”

“Food!” Grover moaned suddenly. Sally glanced at away from Percy and saw Nico carefully pulling the satyr out from the window he had broken earlier.

The beast kept coming toward them, making his grunting, snorting noises.

“He doesn’t want _us_ ,” she told her son. “He wants _you_. Besides, I can’t cross the property line.”

“But…”

“Percy, move,” Nico as he set Grover down next to Percy and Percy moved back. Nico stood in front of the broken window between Sally and Percy. “Brace yourself,” he warned them before he smashed the window in with his foot. With his foot, Nico crushed the glass remaining along the edges before he crouched down and held his hand out to Sally.

“We don’t have ti-!” Sally tried to protest.

“We don’t have time to argue,” Nico cut in.

Sally stared at the small boy as if she’d never seen him before in her life. Before tonight, she hadn’t.

“Come on, Mom,” Percy urged from behind Nico.

Sally unbuckled her seatbelt and took Nico’s hand. Together, Nico and Percy pulled her out of the car and into the rain. When she was out, Nico draped one of Grover’s arms over his shoulder and Sally draped the other arm on hers.

Percy wanted to help but Nico protested. “You’re mom’s right. That thing’s after you, not us. You’re better off running ahead and getting to safety. We’ll only slow you down,” Nico said hurriedly as he began stumbling uphill with Grover and Sally.

Dumbfounded, Percy stayed rooted to the spot. “I-I’m not leaving you guys behind.”

Nico didn’t seem very surprised at Percy’s reaction to his suggestion. He probably hadn’t expected Percy to even consider it. “Then, start walking,” Nico said back to him, “or _we’ll_ be the ones leaving _you_ behind.”

That got Percy moving.

Glancing back, Sally got her first clear look at the beast. He was seven feet tall with thick arms and legs. He was covered in nothing but a dirtied loincloth and thick coarse brown hair that started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his too-big head, which had a shout with a gleaming brass ring. He had cruel black eyes and horns – enormous black and white horns with deadly sharp points.

Sally recognized him immediately.

Apparently, so did Percy. “That’s-” he began to say.

“Pasiphae’s son,” she said before Percy could say the beast’s name. “I wish I’d known how badly they want to kill you.”

“But he’s the Min-”

“Percy, shut up,” Nico snapped on Grover’s other side.

“Don’t say his name,” Sally warned. “Names have power.”

The tree was still at least a hundred yards away. But they would make it. They _had_ to.

“Food?” Grover moaned.

“Shhh,” Percy said to him. “Mom, what’s he doing? Doesn’t he see us?”

Sally looked back for a moment. She saw the beast hunched over the car, sniffing through the broken windows. He was looking for them.

“His sight and hearing are terrible,” she informed Percy. “He goes by smell. But he’ll figure out where we are soon enough.”

As if on cue, the beast bellowed in rage. He picked up the Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about a half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

Sally took a second to wonder how many more jobs she would have to take and how much of what she had to cut back to save enough money to buy them a new car.

“Boys,” she said to Percy and Nico. “When he sees us, he’ll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way – directly sideways. He can’t change directions very well once he’s charging. Do you understand?”

“How do you know all this?” Percy asked her.

Nico seemed curious too.

“I’ve been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me.”

“Keeping me near you?” Percy questioned. “But-”

Another bellow of rage and the thing started tromping uphill.

He’d smelled them.

The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker and Grover wasn’t getting any lighter.

The beast closed in. Another few more seconds and he’d be on top of them.

Sally was exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. “Boys, go!” she said to the other two still conscious. “Separate! Remember what I said.”

Percy hesitated, but he must have realized that she was right – this was their only chance. Percy and Nico sprinted to the left.

The creature ignored Sally and Grover in favor of the other two. With black eyes glowing with hate, it lowered its head and charged. Sally’ fear grew when she realized that those razor sharp horns were aimed straight at Percy.

The two boys held their ground and, at the last moment, they jumped to opposite sides.

The thing stormed past them like a freight train, then bellowed with frustration and turned towards the closest victim – Nico.

They’d reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side, Sally could see a valley – just where she was told it would be – and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that was half a mile away. They’d never make it.

The beast grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing Nico, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road. Sally knew what the boy was doing. He was trying to lead the thing away from the other person closest to it, Percy.

_“We don’t have time to argue,” the small bespectacled boy said with a gloved hand held out to her._

She turned back to look at the unconscious Grover – she’d set him down in on the wet grass.

_“I mean, we’ve never met, but she knew about me. She knew I was watching you.”_

These boys had helped her and Percy get this far… Grover had looked out for her son when she couldn’t… Grover was hurt and now Nico was going to help them farther… He had saved her family and the only Sally could do was watch as he…

No, it should be her leading the thing away. She was Percy’s mom, she was supposed to be the one protecting him. But all she’d done so far was snap at Percy and call herself stupid for caring about her son too much.

“Nico!” someone shouted in worry. Sally couldn’t tell if it was her or Percy. She was already running.

The beast charged at him. Nico tried to sidestep, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shot out to grab the small boy…

…but Sally had pushed Nico down just in time. Instead, the beast grabbed her by the neck just before she could fall down too.

He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling uselessly at the air.

It was better this way, Sally convinced herself. She couldn’t cross the property line. It was better this way.

“MOM!” she heard her son call out to her.

She caught Percy’s eyes – his green, _green_ eyes, so much like his father’s – and managed to choke out one last word:

“Go!”

xXXx

Percy saw his mother dissolve before his eyes. With a monster’s fist around her neck, she melted into light, a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection. A blinding flash and she was simply… gone.

“No!” Anger replaced his fear. Newfound strength burned in his limbs – the same rush of energy he’d gotten when Mrs. Dodds grew talons.

The bull-man bore down on Nico, who was still disoriented from the hard push Percy’s mother had given him. The monster hunched over, snuffling Percy’s friend as if he were about to lift Nico up and make him dissolve too.

He couldn’t allow that.

Percy took off his red rain jacket.

“Hey!” he screamed, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. “Hey, stupid! Ground beef!”

The monster roared furiously. It turned toward Percy – and more importantly, away from his Percy’s friends – shaking its meaty fists.

Percy had an idea – a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all.

I put his jacket back to the big pine tree and waved it in front of the bull-man, thinking he’d jump out of the way at the last moment.

But it didn’t happen like that.

The bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab him whichever way he tried to dodge.

Time slowed down.

Percy’s legs tensed. He couldn’t jump sideways, so he leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature’s head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair and landing on its neck.

How did he do that? Percy didn’t have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster’s head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked his teeth out.

The bull-man staggered around, trying to shake Percy off. He locked his arms around its horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The rain was in his eyes. The smell of rotten meat burned Percy’s nostrils.

The monster shook itself and bucked like a rodeo bull. It should have just backed up into the tree and smashed him flat, but Percy was starting to realize that this thing only had one gear: forward.

From his place on the monster’s head, Percy saw Nico get up and head towards where Grover lay in the grass. Meanwhile, Grover started groaning. Percy wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way he was getting tossed around, if he opened his mouth he’d bite his own tongue off.

“Food!” Grover moaned just as Nico reached him.

The bull-man wheeled toward where the sound came from, pawed the ground again and got ready to charge. Percy thought about how the monster had squeezed the life out of his mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage filled him like high-octane fuel. He got both hands around one horn and he pulled backward with all his might.

The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then – _snap!_

The bull-man screamed and flung him through the air. Percy landed flat on his back in the grass. His head smacked against a rock. When he sat up, his vision was blury, but he had a horn in his hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.

The monster charged.

Without thinking, Percy rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster barreled past, Percy drove the broken horn straight into its side, right up under its furry rib cage.

The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at it’s chest, then began to disintegrat – not like Percy’s mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chucks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

The monster was gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. Percy smelled like livestock and his knees were shaking. His head felt like it was splitting open.

Percy watched silently as Nico picked up their unconcious friend and slung Grover’s arm over his much small shoulders before he wordlessly dragged himself and Grover up the hill.

Percy was weak and scared and trembling with grief. He’d just seen his mother vanish. He wanted to lie down and cry...

When Nico got close to him and before he had the chance to walk past Percy like before, Percy took Grover’s other arm and together, the three of them made their way towards the large pine tree.

...but his friends still needed his help. They all needed to get to the camp – they would all be safe there, his mother had said so. Percy and Nico staggered down into the valley with Grover, toward the lights of the farmhouse. Percy felt tears flow down his cheeks, but he made no sound. Nico didn’t say anything – about Percy crying, about the supposedly mythical monster they faced or about Percy’s mother – and for that, Percy was grateful.

The last thing Percy remembered was collapsing on a wooden porch next to Grover – looking up at the ceilkng fan circling above him, moths fling around a yellow light – while Nico knocked tiredly on the wooden door calling for someone called ‘Chiron’.

Then, Percy was looking up at the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a pretty blonde girl. Nico could be seen just at the corner of Percy’s green eyes, slumping against the wooden farmhouse and breathing heavily.

The other two looked down at Percy and the girl said, “He’s the one. He must be.”

“Silence, Annabeth,” the man said. “He’s still concious. Bring him inside. Nico, my boy, can you stand-?”

xXXx


	5. the camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's time at Camp Half-Blood with other problem kids with ADHD and dyslexia like him... why would anyone think that would be a good idea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES! New Chapter finally!
> 
> ...The late chapter was entirely my fault, I have no excuse. I'm sorry. I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to comment and continued reading despite the late updates. You guys are my heroes.
> 
> This chapter does not have a lot of Nico. I have tried my best not to make it seem like it's been copy and pasted from TLT, but I don't think I succeeded...
> 
> Comments, reviews, constructive criticism and the like are more than welcome. But please don't flame. If you find something that pisses you off in the story, then tell me as nicely as possible and I'll do my best to fix it or just stop reading all together.
> 
> Anyway, ENJOY!

**Chapter 4 – the camp**

Percy had weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted kill him. The rest wanted food.

He must’ve woken up several times, but what he heard and saw made no sense, so Percy just passed out again. He remembered laying I a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovered over him, smirking as she scraped drips off his chin with the spoon.

When she saw Percy's eyes open, she started firing questions at him at a rapid pace. She asked about the summer solstice and something that was stolen… It only served to make Percy more dizzy and confused. Thankfully she stopped talking when somebody knocked on the door.

The next time Percy woke up, the girl was gone. But a husky blonde dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over Percy. He had blue eyes – at least a dozen of them – on his cheeks, his forehead and the backs of his hands.

Percy passed out again. This time, he didn’t even bother trying to fight off the wave of exhaustion.

xXXx

When he finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about his surroundings, except that they were nicer than he was used to. He was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries. There was a blanket over his legs and a pillow behind his neck.

And his tongue was dry and nasty and every one of his teeth hurt – it felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest.

On the table next to him was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry.

Curled up near the table and directly next to Percy’s deck chair was someone wearing a long-sleeved black jacket and a black glove on their right hand. The person was smaller than Percy with messy black hair and pale skin. The person had their legs brought up to their chest and their arms curled around their knees. Even with his face hidden in the cradle of his arms, Percy immediately recognized him as Nico.

He wasn’t moving and he was breathing deeply, Percy could only guess that he was sleeping. Percy had never really had a chance to see Nico in deep sleep – despite sharing a dorm room with him for almost a year – because Nico was always the first to wake up. Curiously, Percy held out his hand to run his fingers lightly through Nico’s hair. He was surprised to feel that it was softer than it seemed.

“He exhausted himself during archery practice,” a familiar voice said. “Michael Yew’s a slave driver with amateur archers. He just made Nico his latest victim.”

Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a shoe box. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD. Just plain old Grover, not the goat boy.

So maybe he’d had a nightmare. Maybe his mom was okay. They were still on vacation and they’d stopped here at this big house for some reason. And…

“You saved my life,” Grover said. “I… well, the least I could do… I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this.”

Reverently, he placed the shoe box in Percy’s lap.

Inside was a black and white bull’s horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood. It hadn’t been a nightmare.

“The Minotaur,” Percy said.

“Um, Percy, it isn’t a good idea-”

“That’s what they call him in the Greek myths, isn’t it?” Percy demanded. “The Minotaur. Half man, half bull.”

Grover shifted uncomfortably. “You’ve been out for two days. How much do you remember?”

“My mom. Is she really…?”

Grover looked down.

Neither boy said anything for a while. Grover was trying to think of what to say while Percy was waiting for the earlier news to sink in.

His mother was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Grover sniffled. “I’m a failure. I’m- I’m the worst satyr in the world.” He moaned, stomping his foot so hard the Converse hi-top came off… revealing the Styrofoam filled inside with a hoof-shaped hole.

Percy stared at his friend’s foo- hoof.

“Oh, Styx!” Grover mumbled.

Thunder rolled across the clear sky.

Nico began to stir.

As Grover struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot, Percy thought, _Well, that settles it_. _Grover was a satyr._

But Percy didn’t care. He was too miserable to care that satyrs existed or even Minotaurs. All that meant was his mom really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light.

While Percy contemplated on the implications of his mother’s death and his new orphan status, Grover was still sniffling. The poor kid – poor goat, satyr, whatever – looked as if he expected to be hit.

Percy said, “It wasn’t you fault.”

“Yes, it was,” Grover said miserably. “I was supposed to _protect_ you and Nico.”

“Grover,” Nico said, coming out of his sleepy haze. “We’ve talked about this. We don’t blame you.” Without looking at Percy, he asked, “Do we, Percy?”

“No, of course not,” Percy reassured sincerely. “I mean, it’s not like my mother asked you to protect me.”

“No,” Grover confirmed. “But that’s my job. I’m a keeper. At least… it was.”

“But why…” Percy suddenly felt dizzy, his vision swimming.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Grover instructed.

“Here.” Nico – who was positioned closer to Percy – held drink out to him.

When the straw met his lips, Percy took a sip and recoiled at the taste. He was expecting apple juice. It wasn’t that at all. It was chocolate-chip cookies. Liquid cookies. And not just any cookies – his mom’s blue chocolate chip cookies, buttery and hot with the chips still melting. Drinking it, his whole body felt warm and good, full of energy. His grief didn’t go away, but he felt as if his mom had just brushed her hand against his cheek, given him a cookie the way she used to when he was small, and told him everything was going to be okay.

Before Percy knew it, he’d drained the glass. He stared into it. The drink had been warm, but the ice cubes hadn’t even melted.

“Was it good?” Grover asked.

Percy nodded.

“What did it taste like?” He sounded so wistful, Percy felt guilty.

“Sorry,” Percy said. “I should’ve let you taste.”

His eyes got wide. “No! That’s not what I meant. I just… wondered.”

“Chocolate-chip cookies,” Percy said. “My mom’s. Home made.”

Grover sighed. “And how do you feel?”

Nico placed the empty glass back on the table. He hadn’t made eye contact with Percy the entire time.

“Like I could throw Nancy Bobofit a hundred yards.”

“That’s good,” he said. “That’s good. I don’t think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff.”

“What do you mean?”

Grover gained a look in his eyes – the same look he got every time Percy asked him about Mrs. Dodds – that told Percy that he was either going to lie to him or evade the question completely. Nico saved him from making that decision.

“Come on,” he called to them as he stepped down the steps of the porch. “Chiron and Mr. D are waiting.”

xXXx

Nico headed off to another direction while Grover led Percy to a table where two men were playing pinochle and the pretty blonde girl from earlier – who he later learned to be a long time camper named Annabeth Chase – was waiting. He was introduced to the camp director, Mr. D and Mr. Brunner – who was apparently the camp’s activities director and was really named Chiron.

Oh, and apparently Chiron was half-horse and Mr. D was one of the many gods of Greek mythology, all of which weren’t myths after all.

Confused? Join the club.

Then, Chiron took him on an admittedly pleasant tour of the camp.

On the tour, they passed the volleyball pit where several of the campers and satyrs had proceeded to nudge each other and point at Percy – more specifically, the Minotaur horn he was carrying – and murmuring to each other. The way they were staring made Percy uncomfortable – like they were expecting him to do a flip or something.

Most of the campers were older than Percy and their satyr friends were bigger than Grover. All of them wore orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts like Grover and Annabeth. It took Percy a second to realize that he hadn’t seen Nico wear the orange shirt. Maybe he was hiding it under that black jacket? Was he even allowed to do that?

When Percy looked back at the farmhouse – it was a lot bigger that he’d realized – and was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top, something caught his eye. It was a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second and he got the distinct impression he was being watched.

He asked Chiron about it, wondering if somebody lived up there.

After that, they walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe. Chiron told him that the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus – “It pays our expenses,” he explained. Apparently, Mr. D had this effect on fruit bearing plants, they just went crazy when he was around.

When Percy saw a satyr drive away lines of bugs from the strawberry patch by just playing his reed pipes, he began thinking of Grover. He wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.

“Grover won’t get in too much trouble, will he?” he asked Chiron. “I mean… he was a good protector. Really.”

Chiron sighed. “Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill.”

“But he did that!” Percy defended.

“I might agree with you,” Chiron said. “But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I’m afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then, he dragged Nico out of camp just after he was brought here. Although Nico told me that he insisted Grover to let him come along when he learned that Grover was leaving the camp to find you, he still shouldn’t have allowed Nico to leave. And there’s the unfortunate… ah… fate of your mother. There’s also the fact that Grover was unconscious when you and Nico dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover’s part.”

Percy wanted to protest. None of what happened was Grover’s fault – he was also convinced that what happened with Nico wasn’t Grover’s fault too. He knew how stubborn Nico could be better than anyone. Percy also felt really, really guilty. If he hadn’t given Grover the slip at the bus station, he might not have gotten in trouble.

“He’ll get a second chance, won’t he?”

Chiron winced. “I’m afraid that _was_ Grover’s second – and third – chance, Percy. The council was no anxious to give him another either after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He’s still too small for his age…”

“How old is he?”

“Oh, twenty-eight.”

Well, that was news to Percy. “What?! And he’s in sixth grade?”

“Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Quite,” Chiron agreed. “At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career…”

“That’s not fair,” Percy said. “What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?”

Chiron looked away quickly. “Let’s move along, shall we?”

But Percy wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. Something had occurred to him when Chiron talked about his mother’s fate, as if he were intentionally avoiding the word _death_. The beginnings of an idea – a tiny, hopeful fire – started forming in his mind.

“Chiron,” he said. “If the gods and Olympus and all that are real…”

“Yes, child?”

“Does that mean the Underworld is real too?”

Chiron’s expression darkened.

“Yes, child.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now… until we know more… I would urge you to put that out of your mind.”

“What do you mean, ‘until we know more’?”

“Come, Percy. Let’s see the woods.”

The forest was huge, Percy realized. It took up at least a quarter of the valley with trees so tall and thick you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron said, “The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed.”

“Stocked with what?” Percy asked. “Armed with what?”

“You’ll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?”

“My own-?”

“No,” Chiron said. “I don’t suppose you do. I think a size five will do. I’ll visit the armory later.”

Percy wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armory, but there was too much else to think about. So the tour continued. They saw the archery range (Percy was reminded of what Grover had said about someone named Michael driving Nico to exhaustion during archery practice and he craned his neck trying to see if he could figure out which one he was), the canoeing lake (Percy took his time to observe every inch of the shimmering large expanse of water), the stables (which Chiron didn’t seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

“‘Sword and spear fights’?” Really?

“Cabin challenges and all that,” he explained. “Not lethal. Usually. Oh yes, and then there’s the mess hall.”

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

“What do you do when it rains?” Percy asked.

Chiron looked at him as if Percy had just asked what color the sky was. “We still have to eat, don’t we?”

Percy decided to drop the subject.

Finally, Chiron showed Percy the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings Percy had ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), the looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending to the flames, poking the coals with a stick. She was talking animatedly to someone in black. It didn’t take Percy very long to identify the other as Nico. (He was wearing a black jacket and sitting near a fire in the middle of summer… Percy was really starting to worry about that guy…) Percy almost called out to his friend, but Nico spotted him first. He waved Percy away, wordlessly telling him to continue with the tour and that they would talk later.

Percy observed the other cabins. The pair at the head of the field – numbers one and two – looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles, lightning bolt seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

“Zeus and Hera?” Percy guessed.

“Correct,” Chiron said.

“Their cabins look empty.”

“Several of the cabins are. That’s true. No one ever stays in one or two.”

Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty? He stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

I wasn’t high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were rough gray stone studded with pieced of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. Percy peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!”

Before Chiron could pull Percy back, he caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned downs. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place felt so sad and lonely, Percy was glad when Chiron put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and said, “Come along, Percy.”

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red – a real nasty paint job, as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar’s head hung over the doorway and its eyes seemed to follow Percy. Inside, he could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroes in on Percy and gave him an evil sneer. She reminded him of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy and brown instead of red.

Percy kept walking. He asked Chiron why he hadn’t seen any other centaurs around camp.

“My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I’m afraid,” Chiron said sadly. “You might encounter them in the wilderness or at major sporting events. But you won’t see any here.”

“You said your name was Chiron. Are you really…?”

He smiled down at Percy. “ _The_ Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am.”

“But, shouldn’t you be dead?”

Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. “I honestly don’t know about _should_ be. The truth is, I _can’t_ be dead. You see, eons ago, the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish… and I gave up much. But I’m still here, so I can only assume I’m still needed.”

Percy thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn’t have made his Top Ten Things to Wish For list. “Doesn’t it ever get boring?”

“No, no,” Chiron said. “Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring.”

“Why depressing?”

“Oh, look,” he said, pointing to the last cabin on the left. “Annabeth is waiting for us.”

xXXx

After leaving Percy with Annabeth – Chiron said he had an archery class to teach – she showed him cabin eleven. Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin – with emphasis on _old_. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was a caduceus – a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it.

Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

The kids inside stared at Percy, they were sizing him up. One of them asked Annabeth if he was ‘regular or undetermined’ and she answered that he was ‘undetermined’. Percy didn’t know what that meant or if that was even a good thing or not.

That was when a guy a little older than the rest came forward. He was about nineteen and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

Annabeth introduced him as Luke, cabin eleven’s counselor – _for now_.

When Percy asked, Luke explained that it was because Percy was still undetermined and they didn’t know which cabin to put him in. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers since their patron was Hermes, the god of travelers.

Percy asked how long he would have to stay there. Luke said only until he was ‘determined’.

“How long will that take?” Percy asked.

“Good question” Luke said. “Until you’re determined.”

“How long will that take?”

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say. The campers of cabin eleven laughed and Annabeth grabbed his arm before stiffly telling him that she was taking him to see the volleyball court.

“I’ve already seen it.”

“ _Come on_.”

She grabbed his wrist and dragged him outside. When they were a few feet away, they began arguing. Annabeth told him to do better, muttering how she couldn’t believe how she thought he was ‘the one’. Angry and confused, Percy asked her what her problem was. Somehow, the argument shifted to how _lucky_ he was and how the kids at the camp had trained everyday just for a chance at fighting monsters like the Minotaur.

They entered a discussion about monsters and how although they could be killed, they could never really die. They could be dispelled for a while but they always came back. Which meant that Mrs. Dodds was still out there and Percy just made her very, very angry.

Then, the question of cabins came up. Annabeth explained that while yes, there are a lot of empty cabins at camp, you can’t just _choose_ which cabin you wanted to stay in. The cabins had to choose _you_. Or, at least, the patron god that represented the cabin did the choosing. And – with Hermes being the obvious exception – the other gods would only allow their own children to stay in their cabin.

It took a while for the new information to sink in. But in the end, Percy understood, kind of.

Not that he would ever accept something so outlandish. Him? The son of a Greek _god_? That was harder to believe than his teacher and best friend turning out to be part animal.

He thought of his mom, Sally Jackson who worked at a candy store in Grand Central Station and made the best blue-chocolate-chip cookies in history – or, at least, she _used to_. Then, he thought of his father… his supposedly _dead_ father.

The _dead_ father whom Annabeth was convinced was an immortal god.

“How can you say that?” Percy demanded because he refused to believe anything the pretty blonde girl said was true. “Do you know him?”

“No, of course not,” she said. But, she knew Percy. She knew that Percy had been moved from school to school and that he had been kicked out of a lot of them. She knew that he was diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD. Annabeth pretty much retold Percy his entire life story. She knew all this because she went through the exact same thing, pretty much every kid at the camp did. Because Percy was one of them and he wouldn’t be here if he weren’t.

She explained that he had a hard time reading English because his mind was hardwired for Ancient Greek. And the ADHD was actually his battle field reflexes. It was how he had won the fight against the Minotaur. Any normal kid wouldn’t have survived that monster, much less the ambrosia and nectar – the popcorn flavored pudding and the cookie flavored apple juice. If Percy wasn’t one of them, it would have turned his blood to fire and his bones to sand.

He was one of them. Percy was a half-blood.

Her words left Percy reeling. And just before he could ask Annabeth anymore questions, they were interrupted by the big girl from the ugly red cabin. She was followed by three other girls who were just as big and mean looking.

Apparently, the girl’s name was Clarisse, a daughter of Ares, the war god. She had approached them because she wanted to put Percy through the ‘newbie initiation ceremony’. Percy was hit by a wave of déjà vu. He remembered three seniors from Nancy saying the exact same thing to him during on his first day of school before they slammed him against the lockers demanding he showed them him wallet for an ‘inspection’.

Annabeth tried to help him, but Clarisse threatened her to stay out of it. And Percy didn’t really want her help. He was the new kid. He had to earn his own rep.

Clarisse dragged him toward the bathroom. Percy kicked and punched at her, but the girl was much bigger than him and had hands like iron.

“Hey, isn’t that your friend?” Percy heard someone say. And at the corner of his eyes – through the miniscule tears of pain at having Clarisse trying to rip his hair out – Percy saw an older boy standing to the side with a bow in one hand, the other pointing at him and a quiver of arrows over his shoulder.

Standing next to him was Nico.

His friend’s face was as unreadable as ever, but the way he had his hands clenched at his sides told Percy that Nico was worried for him. Even so, his cold eyes let Percy know that no matter how much he wanted to, Nico wouldn’t move a single muscle to help him. Without voicing a single word, Nico was telling Percy that he needed to deal with this on his own, without his or anyone’s help.

That was when Percy remembered. He remembered how Nico and Grover had helped him get to camp. He remembered how Nico had helped him with Mrs. Dodds even if he did immediately disappear afterwards. He remembered how Nico had scared off the seniors on Percy’s first day at Yancy.

Before he could continue his train of thought, Clarisse pushed him into the girls’ bathroom.

Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers.

Clarisse bent Percy over on his knees and started pushing his head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked like rusted pipes and, well, like what goes into toilets.

But Percy wasn’t paying attention to that. He was still thinking about Nico and of all the times he had helped Percy in one way or another. Whether it was to fight monsters or to get him out of car wrecks or even to help him with keeping his grades up, Nico was always there.

Then, he thought of Grover. He thought of his best friend and how he had made Percy’s time at Nancy less miserable. He thought of Grover sticking by him through thick and thin – staying close by during Percy’s fights in case he needed the extra help, defending Percy’s innocence against the principal afterwards – despite the fact that doing so made him a constant target for Nancy and her goons. He had thought of what Grover had said about being Percy’s protector and the miserable look in his eyes when he apologized to Percy about what happened to his mother, like it was his entire fault.

He thought of Mr. Brunner and how being in his class had never made Percy feel stupid. He thought of how Mr. Brunner had tossed the pen-sword into Percy’s hand during the fight with Mrs. Dodds and how he might have died if Mr. Brunner hadn’t come in when he did.

Percy thought of his mother. His sweet and selfless mother who had lived such a horrible life – which Percy was partially guilty of – and yet had never treated him unkindly and always been there for him, always loved him…

And look where that got her.

He almost lost Grover and Nico too when they faced the Minotaur…

Percy felt so useless. He couldn’t do anything on his own.

This was why it was so hard for him to believe Annabeth’s words. Him? The son of a god? What kind of son of a god couldn’t even defend himself against bullies like Nancy and Clarisse?

Clarisse bent him over on his knees and started pushing his head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked.

With the faces of his mother and friends in his mind, Percy strained to keep his head up. He was looking at the scummy water, thinking, I will not go into that. I can beat these girls – _without_ anyone’s help.

Then, something happened. Percy felt a tug in the pit of his stomach.

He heard the plumbing rumble, the pipes shudder. Clarisse’s grip on his hair loosened. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over his head and the next thing Percy knew, he was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind him.

He turned just as the water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall.

Clarisse struggled, gasping and her friends started coming toward her. But the other toilets exploded too and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up too and together all fixtures sprayed the girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.

As soon as they were out the door, Percy felt the tug in his gut lessen and the water shut off as quickly as it had started. The entire bathroom was flooded.

Annabeth hadn’t been spared. She was dripping wet, but she hadn’t been pushed out the door. She was standing in exactly the same place, staring at him in shock.

Percy looked down and realized that he was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around him. He didn’t have one drop of water on his clothes. Nothing.

Percy stood up, his legs shaky.

Annabeth said, “How did you…?”

“I don’t know.”

They walked to the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse’s hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage.

She gave Percy a look of absolute hatred. “You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead.”

Percy said nothing. He wasn’t even paying attention to her. Instead, he was scanning the crowd in search of one specific face. Disappointment welled in him when he saw the older boy with the bow and arrows, but no sign of the boy in the black jacket who was with him earlier.

Percy’s act of ignoring her seemed to anger Clarisse more. Her friends had to hold her back from pummeling him and causing a larger scene. They dragged her toward cabin five while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

Annabeth stared at Percy. He couldn’t tell whether she was just grossed out or angry at him for dousing her.

“What?” he asked. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” she said, “that I want you on my team for capture the flag.”

xXXx

Back at cabin eleven, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting for dinner. Looking around, Percy noticed for the first time that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as troublemakers.

Then, Percy noticed Nico, lying down on a sleeping bag on the spot of the floor next to Percy’s spot. He had his iPod out again – something most of the campers were looking at with wicked glints in their eyes. He hadn’t looked up yet, so Percy assumed that Nico just hadn’t heard him come in.

He was about to walk over to his old dorm mate – now cabin mate – when the counselor, Luke approached him. Percy noted that he had the Hermes family resemblance too. It was marred by that scar on his cheek, but his smile was intact.

“Found you a sleeping bag,” he said. “And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store.”

Percy’s thoughts on Nico got cut off at that. Was Luke kidding about the ‘stole’ part? If not, should he be worried?

He thanked Luke anyway.

“No prob.” Luke walked over to one of the beds – probably his – and patted it as an invitation for Percy to sit.

“I don’t belong here,” Percy said, sitting next to the older boy. “I don’t believe in gods.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Everyone’s like that in the beginning... Well, everyone except your friend there. Actually, no one knows what he thinks of all this.” He pointed to Nico, who stuck his iPod in his pocket just as one of the camper’s hand shot out to grab it. “But then again, his orientation had been cut short when he left with Grover to look for you. He didn’t even make it half-way through the orientation film.” Luke paused for a second. “But then again, I don’t think anyone ever watches the orientation film, so I don’t know why we even still keep it around.”

Nico left with Grover to look for Percy – it was his decision. Just as Chiron said. So, Grover wasn’t really the one at fault. And yeah, Nico was a pretty hard guy to read, but Percy liked to think that he had gotten better these past few months. “What about you?” Percy asked Luke curiously. “When did you start believing in them?”

“Early,” was Luke’s answer. “Not that believing in them makes anything any easier.”

The bitterness in his voice surprised Percy because Luke seemed like a pretty easygoing guy. He looked like he could handle just about anything.

“So your dad is Hermes?” he asked.

Luke pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and – for a second Percy thought Luke was going to gut him, but he just – scraped the mud off of the sole of his sandal. “Yeah. Hermes.”

“The wing-footed messenger guy.”

“That’s him. Messengers. Medicine. Travelers, merchants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That’s why you’re here, enjoying the hospitality of cabin eleven. Hermes isn’t picky about who he sponsors.”

Percy figured Luke didn’t mean to call him a nobody. He just had a lot on his mind.

“You ever met your dad?”

“Once.”

Percy waited, thinking that if Luke wanted to tell him, he’d tell him. Apparently, he didn’t. Percy wondered if the story had anything to do with how Luke got his scar.

Luke looked up and managed a smile. “Don’t worry about it, Percy. The campers here, they’re mostly good people. After all, we’re extended family, right? We take care of each other.”

Luke seemed to understand how lost Percy felt and he was grateful for that because an older guy like him – even if he was a counselor – should’ve steered clear of an uncool middle-schooler like him. But Luke had welcomed Percy into the cabin – something that even Nico, who’d Percy was (possibly) old friends with hadn’t done. Luke had stolen Percy some toiletries, which was the nicest thing anybody had done for him all day.

Percy decided to ask Luke his last big question, the one that had been bothering him all afternoon. “Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about me being ‘Big Three’ material.” He thought back to the disaster that had been his ‘newbie initiation ceremony’. “Then Annabeth… twice she said I might be ‘the one’. She said I should talk to the Oracle. What was that all about?”

Luke folded his knife. “I hate prophecies.”

“What do you mean?”

His face twitched around the scar. “Let’s just say I messes things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn’t allowed any more quests. Annabeth’s been dying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told her he already knew her fate. He’d had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn’t tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn’t’\ destined to go on a quest yet. She had to wait until… somebody special came to the camp.”

“Somebody special?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Luke said. “Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she’s been waiting for. Your little friend there included.” Luke pointed to Nico.

Percy was glad Nico’s ears were plugged. If he had heard Luke call him ‘little’…

“Now, come on, it’s dinner time.”

xXXx

The next few days, Percy settled into a routine that felt almost normal – if you don’t count the fact the he was getting lessons from satyrs, nymphs and a centaur.

Each morning he took Ancient Greek from Annabeth and they talked about the gods and goddesses in the present tense, which was kinda weird. He discovered Annabeth was right about his dyslexia. Ancient Greek wasn’t that hard for him to read. At least, no harder than English. After a couple of mornings, he could stumble through a few lines of Homer without too much headache.

The rest of the day, Percy would rotate through outdoor activities, looking for something he was good at. Chiron tried to teach him archery. Bu they quickly found out that he wasn’t any good with a bow and arrow. Chiron didn’t complain, even when he had to de-snag a stray arrow out of his tail.

Percy took some comfort knowing that Nico wasn’t much better at it than he was. He had archery the same time Nico did. His friend was taught by the campers of cabin seven – most of the time by Michael Yew, the camper Grover had called a ‘slave-driver’. He was the one Percy saw standing next to Nico during the Toilet Incident. He was ruthless towards Nico during his lessons, criticizing on every little mistake he made and forcing Nico to list out his own mistakes every time he missed the bull’s-eye. Percy commended his smaller friend for only rolling his eyes at Michael’s irritating teaching methods instead of completely blowing his top like Percy would have.

The closest Nico had come to losing his cool was this morning – although, it wasn’t at Michael – when he completely missed the target – again – and sent his arrow flying way up. Another cabin seven camper – a younger boy named Will – had laughed at Nico’s efforts until tears came pouring out of his eyes. Nico had glared at Will’s perfect bull’s-eye before he swiped his long bow under Will’s feet while the kid was still laughing. Will had fallen on his butt with comical shock causing Michael to snort in amusement and Lee Fletcher – the counselor of cabin seven and Will’s assigned teacher – to let out a hearty chuckle while Nico sent the downed boy a smug smirk.

Foot racing? No good either. The wood-nymph instructors left Percy in the dust. They told him not to worry about it. They’d had centuries of practice running away from lovesick gods.

But still, it was a little humiliating to be slower than a tree.

And wrestling? Forget it. Every time he got on the mat, Clarisse would pulverize him.

“There’s more where that came from, punk,” she’d mumble in his ear.

The only thing Percy really excelled at was canoeing, and that wasn’t the kind of heroic skill people expected to see from the kid who had beaten the Minotaur.

Percy knew the senior campers and counselors were watching him, trying to decide who his dad was, but they weren’t having an easy time of it. Percy wasn’t as strong as the Ares kids or as good at archery as the Apollo kids. He didn’t have Hephaestus’ skill with metalwork or – gods forbid – Dionysus’ way with vine plants.

Luke told Percy he might be a child of Hermes, a kind of jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But Percy got the feeling Luke was just trying to make him feel better. He really didn’t know what to make of himself either.

No one could really figure out who Nico’s godly parent was either, but they didn’t make a very big deal of it. Nico himself didn’t seem overly concerned about it either. Percy wasn’t sure. He hadn’t exactly had much of a chance to talk to Nico about it. He hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to Nico since arriving at camp, despite being a part of the same cabin as him. Percy was almost sure that this was Nico’s fault – maybe Nico was avoiding him?

Despite all that, Percy liked camp. He got used to the morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, even the weird noises of monsters in the woods at night. He would eat dinner with cabin eleven, scrape part of his meal into the fire and try to feel some connection to his real dad. So far, he felt nothing new. There was only that warm feeling Percy had always had, like the memory of his smile. He tried not to think too much about his mom, but he kept wondering: if gods and monsters were real, if all this magical stuff was possible, surely there was some way to save her, to bring her back…

Percy started to understand Luke’s bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, Hermes. So, okay, maybe gods had important things to do. But couldn’t they call once in a while, or thunder or something? Dionysus could make Diet Coke appear out of thin air. Why couldn’t Percy’s dad, whoever he was, make a phone appear?

xXXx

Three days after he’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood, Percy had his first sword-fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be their instructor.

They started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. Percy guessed he did okay. At least he understood what he was supposed to do and his reflexes were good. The problem was, he couldn’t find a blade that felt right in his hands. Either they were too heavy or too light or too long.

Luke tried his best to fix Percy up, but even he had agreed that none of the practice blades seemed to work for Percy.

They moved on to dueling in pairs. Luke announced that he would be Percy’s partner, since this was his first time.

“Good luck,” the camper that was assigned as Nico’s partner told him. “Luke’s the best swordsman in the last three hundred years.”

“Maybe he’ll go easy on me,” Percy said absentmindedly while watching Luke hand Nico a three-foot-long practice sword. Luke showed Nico the sword with the blade pointed to the younger boy which caused Nico to eye it warily.

The camper snorted.

Luke showed Percy how to thrust, parry and shield blocks the hard way. With every swipe, he got a little more battered and bruised. “Keep your guard up, Percy,” he’d say before he whapped Percy in the ribs with the flat of his blade. “No, not that far up!” _Whap!_ “Now, back!” _Whap!_

By the time Luke called a break, Percy was soaked in sweat. Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler. Luke poured water on his head, which looked like such a good idea, Percy did the same.

Instantly, Percy felt better. Strength surged back into his arms. The sword didn’t feel so awkward.

Percy didn’t notice Nico, who was standing behind him, take two cautious steps away from his drenched form.

“Okay, everybody circle up!” Luke ordered. “If Percy doesn’t mind, I want to give you a little demo.”

Great. Let’s all watch Percy get pounded.

The Hermes guys gathered around. They were all suppressing smiles – except Nico who was looking at Luke suspiciously again. (From how far back Nico was sitting, he couldn’t tell that it was actually _Percy_ Nico was eyeing warily.) Percy figured that they’d been in his shoes before and couldn’t wait to see how Luke used him for a punching bag. Luke told everyone he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy’s blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon.

“This is difficult,” he stressed. “I’ve had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique.”

He demonstrated the move on Percy in slow motion. Sure enough, the sword clattered out of his hand.

“Now in real time,” he said after Percy had retrieved his weapon. “We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?”

Percy nodded and Luke came after him. Somehow, Percy kept the older boy from getting a shot at the hilt of his sword. Percy’s senses opened up. He saw Luke’s attacks coming. He stepped forward and tried a thrust of his own. Luke deflected it easily, but Percy saw a change in his face. Luke’s eyes narrowed and he started to press Percy with more force.

The sword grew heavy in Percy’s hand. The balance wasn’t right. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took him down, so Percy figured, _What the heck_?

Percy tried the disarming maneuver.

His blade hit the base of Luke’s and Percy twisted, putting his whole weight into a downward thrust.

_Clang!_

Luke’s sword rattled against the stones.

The tip of Percy’s blade was an inch from Luke’s undefended chest.

The other campers were silent.

Percy lowered his sword. “Um, sorry.”

For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak.

“Sorry?” His scarred face broke into a grin. “By the gods, Percy, why are you sorry? Show me that again!”

Percy didn’t want to. The short burst of manic energy had completely abandoned him. But Luke insisted.

This time, there was no contest. The moment their swords connected, Luke hit the hilt of Percy’s weapon and sent it skidding across the floor.

After a long pause, somebody in the audience said, “Beginner’s luck?”

Luke wiped the sweat off his brow. He appraised Percy with an entirely new interest. Maybe,” he said. “But I wonder what Percy could do with a balanced sword…”

xXXx

The next afternoon, Percy was sitting with Grover at the lake, resting from a near-death experience on the climbing wall.

Grover had scampered to the top like a mountain goat, but the lava had almost gotten Percy. His shirt had smoking holes in it. The hairs had been singed off his forearms.

They were sitting on the pier, watching the naiads do underwater basket-weaving until Percy got up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr. D.

His face turned a sickly shade of yellow.

“Fine,” he said. “Just great.”

“So your career’s still on track?”

He glanced at Percy nervously. “Chiron t-told you I want a searcher’s license?”

“Well… no.” Percy had no idea what a searcher’s license was, but it didn’t seem like the right time to ask. “He just said you had big plans, you know… and that you needed credit for completing a keeper’s assignment. So did you get it?”

Grover looked down at the naiads. “Mr. D suspended judgment. He said I hadn’t failed or succeeded with you yet, so our fates were still tied together. If you got a quest and I went along to protect you and we both came back alive, then maybe he’d consider the job complete.”

Percy’s spirits lifted. “Well, that’s not so bad, right?”

“Blaa-ha-ha! He might as well have transferred me to stable-cleaning duty. The chances of you getting a quest… and even if you did, why would you want _me_ along?”

“Of course I’d want you along!”

Grover stared glumly into the water. “Basket-weaving… Must be nice to have a useful skill.”

Percy tried to reassure Grover that he had lots of talent, but that just made Grover look more miserable. They talked about canoeing (“So far, that’s the only thing I’m both good at and like doing.” “Hey, at least it’s you have _something_ you’re good at.”) and swordplay (“The Hermes kids have been telling everyone how you beat up Luke then forced him to beg on his knees for mercy.” “What?!”). Then, they debated the pros and cons of the different gods (“The Aphrodite kids are pretty, the Ares kids are strong, the Apollo kids are good doctors, singers and archers but what exactly can Mr. D’s kids do?” “…Make good wine?”) and they even talked about Nico for a bit (“I feel like he’s been avoiding me lately…” “Percy, it’s Nico. He avoids _everyone_.”) Finally, Percy asked Grover about the four empty cabins.

“Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis,” Grover told him. “She vowed to be a maiden forever. So, of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn’t have one, she’d be mad.”

“Yeah, okay. But the other three, the ones at the end. Are those the ‘Big Three’?”

Grover tense. They were getting close to a touchy subject. “No. One of them, number two, is Hera’s,” he said. “That’s another honorary thing. She’s the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn’t go around having affairs with mortals. That’s her husband’s job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos.”

“Zeus, Poseidon, Hades.”

“Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their dad and drew lots to decide who got what.”

“Zeus got the sky,” Percy remembered. “Poseidon the sea. Hades the Underworld.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But Hades doesn’t have a cabin here.”

“No. He doesn’t have a throne on Olympus either. He sort of does his own thing in the Underworld. If he did have a cabin here…” Grover shuddered. “Well, it wouldn’t be pleasant. Let’s leave it at that.”

“But Zeus and Poseidon – the both had, like a bazillion kids in the myths. Why are their cabins empty?”

Grover shifter his hooves uncomfortably.

“About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three agreed they wouldn’t sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War II, you know, that was basically a big fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx.”

Thunder boomed.

“That’s the most serious oath you can make.” Percy had recently learned.

Grover nodded.

“And the brothers kept their word – no kids?”

Grover’s face darkened. “Seventeen years ago, Zeus fell off the wagon. There was this TV starlet with a big fluffy eighties hairdo – he just couldn’t help himself. When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia… well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself got off easy because he’s important, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter.”

“But that isn’t fair. It wasn’t the little girl’s fault.”

Grover hesitated. “Percy, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Hades found out about the girl, he wasn’t too happy about Zeus breaking his oath. Hades let the worst monsters out of Tartarus to torment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was twelve, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-bloods she’d befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill.”

He pointed across the valley, to the pine tree where Percy had fought the Minotaur last night. “All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with a horde of hellhounds. They were about to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn’t want to live like a hunted animal. The satyr didn’t want to leave her, but he couldn’t change her mind and he had to protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand alone, at the top of that hill. As she died, Zeus took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the borders of the valley. That’s why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill.”

Percy stared at the pine tree in the distance.

The story made him feel hollow and guilty. A girl his age had sacrificed herself to save her friends. She had faced a whole army of monsters. Next to that, Percy’s victory over the Minotaur didn’t seem like much.

Percy wondered, if he’d acted differently, could he have saved his mother? Could he have protected Grover and Nico better?

“Grover,” Percy said. “Have heroes really gone on quests to the Underworld?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “Orpheus. Hercules. Houdini.”

“And have they ever returned somebody from the dead?”

“No. Never. Orpheus came close… Percy, you’re not seriously thinking–”

“No,” he lied.

xXXx

That night after dinner, there was a lot more excitement that usual.

At last, it was time for capture the flag.

When the plates were cleared away, the conch horn sounded and they all stood at their respective tables.

Campers yelled and cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, glistening gray, with a painting of a barn owl above an olive tree. From the opposite side of the pavilion, Clarisse and her buddies ran in with another banner, of identical size, but gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and a boar’s head. The Hermes and Apollo cabins were allied with Athena, Ares was allied with everyone else.

Chiron announced the rules and called for everyone to get ready and arm themselves. Percy eyed the equipment that had magically appeared with shock.

“Whoa,” he said. “We’re really supposed to use these?”

Luke looked at him as if he thought Percy was crazy. “Unless you want to get skewered by your friends in cabin five. Here – Chiron thought these would fit. You’ll be on border patrol with your little friend.”

Percy craned his neck and found Nico putting on a bronze helmet with blue horse plumes on top – the color of Athena and her allies. Percy found that he didn’t mind guarding the flag – away from most of the fun – so much knowing that Nico would be with him. It would give him the chance to talk to his friend.

As their team marched south, Percy somehow managed to catch up to Annabeth without tripping over his equipment. He tried to start a conversation with her, but she brushed him off with the words “Athena always has a plan.”

xXXx

It was a warm, sticky night. The woods were dark with fireflies popping in and out of view. Annabeth stationed Percy and Nico next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, the she and the rest of the team scattered into the trees.

They’ve been standing there with their big blue-feathered helmets and their huge shields for only a few minutes – honestly, Percy felt like an idiot – and Nico hadn’t said a single word. In fact, he hadn’t properly looked at Percy since the night they arrived at camp.

After a few more minutes of silence, Percy couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, what is your problem?” he snapped at the only other person in the immediate vicinity.

Nico seemed a little shocked that Percy was talking to him – Percy took vindictive pleasure in his achievement of making the usually apathetic Nicholas Hunt show some emotion – but he still didn’t say anything, so Percy kept talking.

“You’ve been avoiding me for almost a week.” He saw Nico scowl in protest, but Percy plowed on, “Don’t even _try_ to deny it. I know you have,” he fumed.

He gave Nico a pleading look. “Was it something I did? Is this about the night with the Minotaur? Are you mad at me because I didn’t leave you guys behind like you told me to? Because if you think that I would ever-”

“No,” Nico interrupted. “I knew you wouldn’t- That’s not why…” Nico’s shoulders sagged in resignation. “I thought…” He looked away from Percy again, as if he didn’t want to see what Percy’s reaction to his words would be. “I thought you were angry at me.”

Percy took a proverbial step back to properly digest what Nico had said. “What?”

Nico sighed. “That night… the reason your mom…” he mumbled. “It’s my fault, Percy,” he said more clearly.

It took Percy a moment to understand what Nico was saying. The night they arrived her with the Minotaur after their heads, the reason his mom…

_The Minotaur had his sights set on Nico. The beast charged at him. Nico tried to sidestep, but the monster had learned his lesson. Nico couldn’t dodge this. Percy was going to lose his friend. Its hand shot out to grab the small boy…_

_…but Percy’s mom had pushed Nico down just in time. Instead, the beast grabbed her by the neck…_

“That…” Percy realized. “You think it’s _your_ fault?” Percy said incredulously.

“I don’t _think_ it’s my fault,” Nico said fiercely. “I _know_ it is.”

“No, it’s not,” Percy insisted. “ _I_ don’t think so. I know Grover doesn’t either. Nico, no one is blaming you for that but yourself,” he tried to convince his guilt ridden friend. “And my mom… she’s not gone for good. I’ll get her back.”

Nico almost glared at Percy. “Percy, _please_ tell me you’re not thinking of-”

Then, they heard a sound that sent a chill up both their spines: a low canine growl, somewhere close by.

Instinctively, in almost perfect sync, Nico and Percy stopped talking, sprang into action and pressed against each other’s back with their shields raised and their body’s stiff with attention. Their eyes scanned the unmoving trees wearily. Percy had the feeling that someone was watching them.

Then, the growling stopped. Percy felt the presence retreating.

On the other side of the creek, the underbrush exploded. Five Ares warriors came yelling and screaming out of the dark.

“Cream the punk!” Clarisse screamed, pointing at Percy.

Her ugly pig eyes glared through the slits of her helmet. She brandished a five-foot-long spear, its barbed metal tip flickering with red light. Her siblings had only standard-issue bronze swords – not that that made Percy feel any better.

They charged across the stream. There was no help in sight. Percy and Nico could run. Or they could defend themselves against half the Ares cabin.

Percy managed to sidestep the first kid’s swing while Nico clashed his sword against another. They surrounded the boys. The one facing Nico pressed heavily against the smaller boy’s sword and forced Nico to back up against a tree. While Percy was slightly distracted by keeping an eye out for his friend and making sure he was okay, Clarisse thrust at him with her spear. Percy’s shield deflected the point, but he felt a painful tingling all over his body. His hair stood on end. Percy’s shield arm went numb and the air burned.

Electricity. Her stupid spear was electric.

He fell back.

Another Ares guy slammed him in the chest with the butt of his sword and Percy hit the dirt.

“Percy!” Nico yelled from where the Ares kid had him pinned by his sword.

They could have kicked Percy into jelly, but they were too busy laughing.

“Give him a haircut,” Clarisse said. “Grab his hair.”

Percy managed to get to his feet. He raised his sword, but Clarisse slammed it aside with her spear as sparks flew. Now both his arms felt numb.

“Oh wow,” Clarisse said sarcastically. “I’m scared of this guy. Really scared.”

Percy’s eyes managed to find Nico, still trapped between the tree and the Ares kid, kicking and struggling to break free.

“The flag’s that way,” Percy told her. He wanted to sound angry, but it only came out pained.

“Yeah,” one of her siblings said. “But see, we don’t care about the flag. We care about the guy who made our cabin look stupid.”

“You do that without my help,” Percy told them. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say.

“Hold still, you little-!” the Ares kid growled to Nico, who still hadn’t stopped struggling. He head-butted the smaller boy and made the both of them stop and groan in pain.

Two of the Ares kids came at Percy. He backed up towards the creek, tried to raise his shield, but Clarisse was too fast. Her spear struck him against his ribs. If Percy hadn’t been wearing an armored breastplate, he would’ve been shish-kebabbed.

As it was, the electric point just about shocked his teeth out of his mouth. One of her cabin mates slashed his sword across Percy’s arm, leaving a good-sized cut.

Seeing his own blood made Percy dizzy – warm and cold at the same time.

“No maiming,” he managed to grit out.

“Oops,” the guy said. “Guess I lost my dessert privilege.”

He pushed Percy into the creek causing him to land with a splash.

They all laughed. Percy figured as soon as they were through being amused, he would die. Then, Nico would be left to defend against them alone…

Something happened. The water seemed to wake up his senses, as if he’d just had a bag of his mom’s double-espresso jelly beans.

Clarisse and her siblings came into the creek to get at Percy, but he stood to meet them. He knew what to do. He swung the flat of his sword against the first guy’s head and knocked his helmet clean off. Percy hit him so hard, he could see the guy’s eyes vibrating as he crumpled into the water.

Ugly Number Two and Three came at him. Percy slammed him in the face with his shield and used his sword to shear off the other guy’s horsehair plume. He backed up from Percy quickly after that. Clarisse kept coming at Percy. The point of her spear crackling with energy. As soon as she thrust, Percy caught the shaft at the edge of his shield. Suddenly, a three-foot-long bronze sword came down lightning fast onto the shaft of Clarisse’s spear. Between Percy’s shield and the sword, the electric spear snapped like a twig.

Percy looked to the side to see Nico on the other end of the sword, holding the grip with his gloved hand. His shield was behind him, right next to the downed Ares kid that had him pinned just a minute ago.

“Ah!” Clarisse screamed at Nico. “You idiot! You corpse-breath worm!”

She probably would’ve said worse, but Percy smacked her between the eyes with his sword-butt and sent her stumbling backward out of the creek.

Percy and Nico were both slightly out of breath, but elated. Percy looked at his friend and chuckled. Nico showed him an amused smirk in return.

Then, the boys heard yelling, excited screams and they turned around to see Luke racing toward the boundary line with the red team’s banner lifted high. He was flanked by a couple of Hermes guys covering his retreat and a few Apollos behind them, fighting off the Hephaetus kids.

The Ares folks got up and Clarisse muttered a dazed curse.

“A trick!” she shouted. “It was a trick.”

They staggered after Luke, but it was too late. Everybody converged on the creek as Luke ran across into friendly territory. Their side exploded into cheers. The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and started carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn.

The game was over. They’d won.

Percy felt someone nudge his shoulder. He turned away from the celebrations to see Nico giving him a tentative look. Percy just grinned and swung his arm around his bespectacled friend’s shoulders. Nico yelped. He never liked having anyone touch him and Percy knew it, but he kept his grip tight and kept laughing.

He was about to drag the both of them to join the celebration when Annabeth’s voice, right behind him in the creek, said, “Not bad, hero.”

Percy turned around so fast he almost brought Nico tumbling down. He looked, but Annabeth wasn’t there.

“Where the heck did you learnt to fight like that?” she asked. The air shimmered and Annabeth materialized, holding a Yankees baseball cap as if she’d taken it off her head.

Percy let go of Nico, he felt himself getting angry. He wasn’t even fazed by the fact that she’d just been invisible. “You set us up.” No, that wasn’t right. “You set _me_ up,” he realized. “You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out.”

Annabeth shrugged. “I told you. Athena always, always has a plan.”

“A plan to get me and Nico pulverized.”

“I came as fast as I could. I was about to join in, but…” She shrugged. “You guys didn’t need help.”

Then, she noticed Percy’s wounded arm. “How did you do that?”

“Sword cut,” Percy said. “What do you think?”

“No. It _was_ a sword cut. Look at it.”

The blood was gone. Where the huge cut had been, there was a long white scratch and even that was fading. As Percy watched, it turned into a small scar and disappeared.

“I-I don’t get it,” Percy said.

Annabeth was thinking hard.

Percy could almost see the gears turning. She looked down at Percy’s feet, then at Clarisse’s broken spear and said, “Step out of the water, Percy.”

“What-?”

“Just do it.”

Percy came out of the creek and immediately felt bone tired. His arms started to go numb again. His adrenaline rush left him. Percy almost fell over, but Annabeth steadied him.

“Oh, Styx,” she cursed. “This is _not good_. I didn’t think… I assumed it would be Zeus…”

Before Percy could as what she meant, he heard that canine growl again, but much closed than before. A howl ripped through the forest.

The campers’ cheering died instantly. Chiron shouted something in Ancient Greek, which Percy would realize, only later, he had understood perfectly: “Stand ready! My bow!”

Annabeth drew her sword. On Percy’s other side, Nico did the same.

There on the rocks, just above them was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers.

It was looking right at Percy.

Nobody moved except Annabeth, who yelled, “Percy, run!”

She tried to step in front of him, but the hound was too fast. It leaped over her – and enormous shadow with teeth – and just after it hit Percy, as he stumbled backward and felt its razor sharp claws ripping through his armor, someone rammed themself against it.

Percy lifted his head to see that it had been Nico. It was a mystery how he had been able to knock the monster off of Percy with his small and light frame. The hound was disoriented for only a second and regained its senses almost immediately. Its eyes zeroed in on Nico and it lunged at him next.

Nico wasn’t able to lift his sword fast enough. The hound’s heavy body forced Nico to fall. It clamped its powerful jaw onto Nico’s ankle, its sharp teeth digging into his flesh until a sharp crack was heard and Nico howled in pain. It was able to drag Nico a few steps into the forest – Percy was really panicking at this point – before a cluster of arrows embedded itself into the hound’s neck with a cascade of thwacking sounds. The monster fell dead where it stood.

By some miracle, Nico and Percy were still alive. Percy’s eyes were focused on Nico’s ankle – which was now a mangled bloody mess. He didn’t dare look underneath the ruins of his shredded armor. Percy’s chest felt warm and wet, he knew he was badly cut. Another second, and the monster would’ve turned him into a hundred pounds of delicatessen meat and Nico would’ve been dragged into the forest as dessert.

Chiron trotted up next to them, bow in his hand, his face grim.

Michael and Will broke away from the crowd and knelt by Nico’s side to take a look at his broken and bloody ankle. Lee Fletcher followed not a step behind them, but he came to Percy’s side instead and inspected his chest.

“ _Di immotales!_ ” Annabeth exclaimed. “That’s a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don’t… they’re not supposed to…”

“Someone summoned it,” Chiron said. “Someone inside the camp.”

Luke came over to Percy, the banner in his hand forgotten, his moment of glory gone.

Clarisse yelled, “It’s all Percy’ fault! He summoned it!”

“No, I didn’t!” he denied vehemently as he looked to where Nico’s face was twisted in pain and his hands clutching tightly above his wound while Michael and Will helped him sit up. His helmet had been taken off. He hadn’t made a sound since the hellhound was killed.

“Be quiet, both of you,” Chiron reprimanded them.

“Try not to talk too much, kid,” Lee said to Percy as he helped Percy take off his helmet.

They watched the body of the hellhound melt into shadow, soaking into the ground until it disappeared.

“Quick, Percy, get in the water,” Annabeth told him.

“I’m okay,” Percy insisted. “Nico-”

“No, you’re not,” she said. “Chiron, watch this.”

Percy was too tired to argue. He stepped back into the creek, half of the camp gathering around him – the other half was hovering over Nico.

Instantly, Percy felt better. He could feel the cuts on his chest closing up. Some of the campers gasped.

“Look, I-I don’t know why,” Percy said, trying to apologize. “I’m sorry…”

But they weren’t watching his wounds heal. They were staring at something above his head.

“Percy,” Annabeth said, pointing. “Um…”

By the time he looked up, the sign was already fading, but he could still make out the hologram of the green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident.

“Your father,” Annabeth murmured. “This is _really_ not good.”

“It is determined,” Chiron announced.

All around him, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn’t look happy about it. Michael and Will stopped tending to Nico to kneel. And Nico…

…He was watching Percy with an unreadable look – it was a look Percy was growing depressingly familiar with, even though he still wasn’t able to understand what it meant, what was going through his head when he looked at Percy like that.

“Poseidon,” Chiron said, cutting off Percy’s train of thought. “Earthshaker, Strombringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next few chapters are going to be in Percy's POV just like this and most of the scenes will be from TLT, BUT only the scenes where Nico will be involved in. I was thinking of doing it like this: where chapters that happen in the PJO verse will be in Percy's POV and at the end of it all - like after Lightning Thief - I will have Nico do a summary on his thoughts of everything that was going on... Think of it as an experiment of sorts, if I find that this way of writing things to be to complicated or you guys don't like it, then I'll try to think of something else.


	6. first quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's leaves camp to retrieve Zeus' Lightning Bolt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha... hey, been a while. huh?  
> ...  
> ...Yeah, so I know you guys want to just get on with the story so, I'll make this short. Hoenstly I had a really touh time with this chapter. At first, I almost re-wrote the entire TLT book, but then I remembered that this is a fanfiction and that most of you already have read TLT. Since this is Nico-centric, I tried to only write scenes that have Nico in them or Nico's time-travel somehow changed or influenced. Somehow, I still think that this is longer than i should be. But, well...  
> I tried my best. This chapter will either turn out good or it won't.

Percy had been visiting Nico in the infirmary almost every day since the last capture the flag game. On the day after the game, Grover had approached Percy with the idea of visiting him together. He told Percy that he and Nico had visited him almost every day when he was in the infirmary.

During his visits, Percy told Nico of everything that he missed – Nico just stayed silent and listened. He told Nico of his move to cabin three and how miserable he was on his own. Ever since the hellhound attack and Poseidon’s claiming, Percy had felt more alienated than ever – sure, he was very much used to it with all the years of experience he had in his short life, but it didn’t mean that he’d gotten better at dealing with it.

Percy told him how he thought that the campers were afraid of him now because he was the son of one of the Big Three and monsters would stop at nothing – even invade the camp that half-bloods had always considered a safe haven – to get to him.

The cabin eleven kids were afraid to have sword class with him after what he’d done to the Ares kids in the woods – even though it hadn’t really been just Percy, Nico had helped too, Percy would insist – so his lessons with Luke had become one-on-one. He pushed Percy harder than ever and wasn’t afraid to bruise him up in the process.

Annabeth still taught him Greek in the mornings, but she seemed distracted. She kept scowling at Percy and mumbling unintelligibly under her breath. Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill him for breaking her magic spear – Percy was glad that Nico was safe in the infirmary for now. Percy almost wished she would yell or punch him or something.

Yesterday, Percy came into the infirmary with a copy of the day’s _New York Daily News_ opened to the Metro page. He watched as Nico barely took fifteen minutes to read it – it took Percy almost an hour.

_BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT_

_BY EILEEN SMYTHE_

_Sally Jackson and son Percy are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family’s badly burned ’78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding._

_Mother and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily under mysterious circumstances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident._

_Ms. Jackson’s husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past._

_Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his mother’s disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson and Percy._

Nico had wadded up the paper and threw it away.

Percy voiced no objections.

With everyone else at camp keeping their distance from him, Percy found himself spending more time with Nico. It helped that Nico wasn’t trying to avoid him anymore – not that he could considering his current bedridden state. Sure, he did most of the talking, but when Nico wanted him to shut up and give him a few minutes of silence, he’d switch on his iPod and stuffed Percy’s ears with his ear-buds.

Percy learned that what Nico was listening to wasn’t music, but people reading out stories – books. He called them audio books. There wasn’t anything from _Harry Potter_ or _Lord of the Rings_ or _Twilight_ (and that was pretty much every book Percy had ever heard of). Most of it was from really old books – “They’re called classics, Percy.” – from authors Percy had never even heard of. There were titles like _Animal Farm_ and _A Tale of Two Cities_ and _The Tempest_ – by William Shakespeare. He didn’t seem the type, but Nico seemed to really favor Shakespeare, if the great amount of works by Shakespeare dominating his iPod was any indication. (Or maybe it’s just because Shakespeare’s written more stuff than the other author’s on Nico’s iPod?)

Percy honestly wasn’t very interested, but it was cool to learn something about Nico. He was really passionate about classic literature, the way he talked about it – with his eyes bright and his hands waving around – made it obvious how obsessed he was with it.

Percy learned that Nico preferred to read actual books instead of just listening to audio books. Percy asked why, since he was sure Nico had dyslexia like Percy did. Wasn’t reading books more frustrating than just listening to someone else read it for you?

“Yeah,” Nico shrugged, almost sheepishly. “But reading the story yourself feels more gratifying.”

xXXx

That night, Percy had a dream about two muscular men in togas wrestling each other on a beach. Every time a blow connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker and the wind rose.

Percy had tried to stop them. He ran to them, yelling, _Stop it! Stop fighting!_ but the men couldn’t hear him over the roar of the storm.

Then, the ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth and a voice, so deep and evil it turned his blood to ice, crooned, _Come down, little hero. Come down to me._

And Percy fell.

Then he woke up and found Grover knocking on his cabin door, saying that Mr. D and Chiron wanted to see him.

xXXx

An hour later, Percy could be found in the infirmary by Nico’s bed. He was watching Nico take a few tentative steps with his almost fully healed foot under Michael’s watchful eye. Nico had to stay in bed for another day to let his foot fully heal. Ambrosia could only do so much and Nico didn’t have any water-healing powers like Percy did, so he had to take it slow.

Percy had just finished telling Nico about his quest. “…so, I was wondering,” he said, “if you wanted to join us.”

“What?” Nico asked, leaning slightly against a chair. “Join you? On the quest?”

“Well, yeah,” Percy shrugged, giving Nico a pleading look. Trying to project a helpless puppy through his eyes.

Nico shot Percy a dry look in return before he pointed to his bandaged ankle.

“You’re almost healed up anyway,” Percy said. “Right?” he asked Michael.

Michael shrugged distractedly while he wrote down Nico’s progress in great detail onto a clipboard.

 “Right,” Percy said, self-satisfied. “We could wait one more day for you to be able to walk on your own.”

“Percy, the solstice is in ten days,” Nico said, as he made his way back to the bed. “You don’t have any time to waste.”

“Then, we’ll go now. You can bring crutches,” Percy suggested. “Grover’s gonna bring his.”

“Percy,” Nico continued to protest. “Have you even told Chiron about this?”

Percy nodded. “He said it was okay…” then, he hesitated, “…even though he’d rather have another more experienced camper on the quest, if we really think we need a fourth. But we have Annabeth, and she’s one of the most experienced campers around. She should have enough experience for all of us.”

“No, Percy,” Nico insisted. “I don’t think I should go.”

“Are you scared?” Percy tried to goad him.

Nico gave him another dry look. “I just don’t think that you guys really need me for this. You’re leading the quest, Grover’s your Keeper and Annabeth’s the brains. What can _I_ help you with?”

“Being there with us is enough,” Percy said. “Nico, I’ve made it this far only because I had you and Grover at my back. I’m gonna need both of you for this too.”

Nico stayed silent in contemplation for a few seconds. Then, he pulled out a chain from under his shirt. Percy had never noticed that before, despite sharing the same room with him for almost a year. Nico was usually awake and ready before Percy could even muster the will to open his eyes. Attached to the chain was a shiny silver ring in the shape of a skull.

“The teachers barely tolerate my glove. They absolutely refused to let me put this on, so I wear it like this,” he said as he took off the chain. “It’s from my dad.”

“I thought you said you haven’t met him yet.”

“I haven’t,” Nico assured before he placed the chain and ring on Percy’s lap.

Percy just stared at it like an idiot.

“Take it,” Nico told him.

“But- It’s… your dad…” Percy stuttered.

“It’s the only thing I have from my dad,” Nico said. “I’m gonna want it back soon.”

It took Percy a while to understand Nico’s hidden meaning behind it.

_You have to come back alive, if only so you can give the ring back to me._

Percy took it and let it hang from his neck. It was heavy and a little warm from being pressed against Nico’s skin for so long.

He smiled.

xXXx

“Play time,” Percy said, sharing a grin with Grover.

Percy couldn’t remember the last time he had so fun. He came from a relatively poor family. Their idea of a splurge was eating out at Burger King and renting a video. A five-star Vegas hotel? Forget it.

_Percy! You need to-!_

He bungee-jumped the lobby five or six time, did the waterslide, snowboarded the artificial ski slope and played virtual-reality laser tag and FBI sharpshooter.

He saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really like the reverse hunter thing – where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks.

Percy saw Annabeth playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D Sim game where you build your own city and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. Percy didn’t think much of it, but Annabeth loved it.

_Please, wake up! Snap out of it!_

Percy wasn’t sure when he first realized that something was wrong.

Probably, it was when he noticed the guy standing next to him at VR sharpshooters. He was about thirteen, maybe, but his clothes were weird. Percy thought he was some Elvis impersonator’s son. He wore bell-bottom jeans and a red T-shirt with black piping and his hair was permed and gelled like a New Jersey girl’s on homecoming night.

They played a game of sharpshooters together and he said, “Groovy, man. Been here two weeks and the games keep getting better and better.”

Groovy?

_Look around you! Something’s not right about this place! You know it!_

Later, while they were talking, Percy said something was ‘sick’ and he looked at Percy kind of startled, as if he’d never heard the word used that way before.

He said his name was Darrin, but as soon as Percy started asking him questions, he got bored with Percy and started to go back to the computer screen.

Percy said, “Hey, Darrin?”

“What?”

“What year is it?”

He frowned at Percy. “In the game?”

“No. In real life.”

He had to think about it. “1977.”

“No,” Percy said, getting a little scared. “Really.”

“Hey, man. Bad vibes. I got a game happening.”

After that, he totally ignored Percy.

_You’re wasting time! Percy!_

Percy started talking to people and found it wasn’t easy. They were glued to the TV screen or the video game or their food or whatever. He found a guy who told him it was 1985. Another guy told him it was 1993. They all claimed they hadn’t been in here very long, a few days, a few weeks at most. They didn’t really know and they didn’t care.

Then it occurred to him: how long had he been here? It seemed like only a couple of hours, but was it?

_Hurry up! You still need to find the others! The quest-!_

Percy tried to remember why he was here. He- No, _they_ were going to Los Angeles. They were supposed to find the entrance to the Underworld. His mother… for a scary second, he had trouble remembering her name. Sally. Sally Jackson. He had to find her. He had to stop Hades from causing World War III.

Percy found Annabeth building her city.

“Come on,” he told her. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

No response.

Percy shook her. “Annabeth?”

She looked up, annoyed. “What?”

“We need to leave.”

“Leave? Why? What are you talking about? I’ve just got the towers-”

“This place is a trap.”

She didn’t respond until Percy shook her again. “What?”

“Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!”

“Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes.”

“Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in and you stay forever.”

“So?” she asked. “Can you imagine a better place?”

Percy grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game.

“Hey!” She screamed and hit him, but nobody even bothered looking at them. They all had their attention occupied by one thing or another.

Percy made Annabeth look directly in his eyes. He said, “Spiders. Large, hairy spiders.”

That jarred her. Her vision cleared. “Oh my gods,” she said. “How long have we-?”

“Oh good, you found Annabeth,” someone said. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t the same voice Percy had been almost every minute since his arrival at the Lotus Casino and Hotel.

Percy looked over Annabeth’s shoulder to see Chiron’s face surrounded by colorful mist. It was an IM – Iris Message.

“Where’s Nico?” Percy asked. “I thought I heard him-”

“He’s trying to wake Grover,” Chiron said. “He’s been Iris Messaging all three of you almost every hour since the day you entered the Lotus Casino. The camp is starting to run low on golden drachma-”

“Day…?” Annabeth asked slowly. “What do you mean ‘since the day’?”

Chiron looked deadly serious when he said, “The three of you have been here for-”

“Four days!” Grover bleated, arriving suddenly, cutting off Chiron. “Nico told me we’ve been here for over four days.”

As if on cue, Nico’s face appeared in the mist next to Chiron’s. “You found them.” He sighed with relief.

“Nico,” Percy had never been happier to see him. “How…?”

Chiron answered the unfinished question. “A few days ago, he barged into the Big House in a panic. He claimed to have dreamed that all three of you were trapped somewhere, unable to continue with the quest. We took caution and contacted you, and…” The centaur let them fill in the blanks themselves.

“But how did you know what kind of trouble we were in?” Annabeth asked with a trace of suspicion.

“Chiron just said he dreamed-” Percy started to say (and honestly, the news of freaky precognitive dreams didn’t even phase him at this point, mostly because Percy had been having weird dreams himself these past few weeks).

“I don’t think that’s what she meant, Percy,” Grover said.

Nico hesitated to answer for a few seconds. “When I saw where you guys were in the dream… I couldn’t shake off how familiar it was, like I should recognize it somehow. I knew what the place was called and what it does to people… I think…”

When Nico didn’t finish his sentence, Chiron patiently continued for him. “We suspect that Nico has been there before.”

xXXx

The moment they got out, Annabeth asked the nearest person for the time. He said it was 8pm.

Percy checked the nearest newspaper stand. The date read: June 19th.

They had a little over a day left until the summer solstice – until it was too late to complete the quest.

xXXx

The interior of the DOA Recording Studios looked no different from any other recording studio.

That is, if you ignored the many ghosts occupying the room and the Underworld’s ferryman standing behind the security guard’s desk.

Percy and the others came up to him. At first, they were able to convince him that they were just normal dead children who only wanted to move on. It worked, until he asked them to pay for their passage and they showed him the golden drachmas they got from the office of the guy that previously tried to sell them deadly water beds.

“Real golden drachmas,” Charon said. “And you read my name wrong before.” He was referring to when Percy read the name on his desk as Chiron instead of Charon. “You’re not really dead. You’re godlings, aren’t you?”

Charon leaned forward to sniff them, as if to make sure. He sneered down at hem for a moment, before he suddenly froze.

“What’s that?” he hissed icily as he pointed to Percy’s neck with a stiff finger.

“Huh?” Grover let out a noise of confusion.

“That!” Charon continued to hiss, agitating the ghosts, making them pace and fidget uncomfortably. “The thing he has around his neck!”

“This?” Percy took hold of the chain he wore like a necklace and brought out the silver skull ring from under his shirt.

The spirits of the dead were frantically pounding on the elevator doors now.

Charon’s sneer was brought up a few levels of ugly. “You could’ve just showed me _that thing_ from the start.” The way he growled out ‘that thing’ made it sound like Percy was pointing a gun with celestial bronze bullets at him instead of just showing him a harmless – if slightly creepy – ring. “Didn’t need to go through the trouble of trying to trick me – not that you could.”

Charon began to walk out from behind the desk.

“Percy, what is that thing?” Annabeth asked. “Where did you get it?”

Percy didn’t answer her. “What do you mean?” He asked Charon.

“It means,” the ferryman said with an irritated scowl as he pushed through the crowd of spirits. When the three friends – lead by Percy – followed behind him, the ghosts parted like the red sea for them. They were all cowering at the sight of the ring, now resting on Percy’s chest over his shirt. “That you have been given exclusive permission to enter the Underworld.”

He didn’t say whether they were allowed to exit or not.

xXXx

The room inside looked just like it had in Percy’s dream, except this time the throne of Hades was occupied.

He was the third god that Percy had met, but the first who really struck him as godlike. He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn’t bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful and dangerous as a panther.

But what really caught Percy’s attention were the god’s dark intense eyes. Eyes that was so very familiar to Percy. Percy had been the focus of those dangerous eyes many times before – narrowed into slits from anger, twinkling as they drown in the words of an old and often told story, raised slightly at the corners in an amused smirk, always dark and deadly.

Percy had often been the focus of those dangerous eyes – admittedly, not as often as he’d like.

Dark and intense, dangerous and deadly – Nico’s eyes.

Hades and Nico had the same eyes.

xXXx

This was the first time that Grover had seen the God of the Underworld in person.

But it wasn’t the first time he had seen the God’s eyes.

No, that’s not it. He’d never seen Hades’ eyes before. But he has seen something similar, just on someone else’s face.

Someone he considered a dear and trusted friend.

Grover took a cautious glance at Percy. Just as expected. His best friend had come to the same conclusion he had. Percy was still gaping at Hades.

Of course he would notice. Dense as he could be at times, Grover knew that no one paid more attention to Nico than Percy did.

Hades smirked. “You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon,” he said in an oily voice. “After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish.”

Percy didn’t say anything. Neither did Grover. They were still in too much shock.

“Lord Hades,” Annabeth stepped up bravely. “We have come with a request.”

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment trying to get out.

 “Only one request?” Hades said without taking his eyes off of Percy. “Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet.”

While Annabeth got Hades talking, Grover started thinking.

To say that this recent development was unexpected would be a gross understatement. He had gone to the same school as Nico – lived in the same dorm even – and it took Grover months before he got a good enough whiff of the boy to recognize him as a demigod. Even then, his scent was weak and diluted, Grover thought he was the son of a minor god. It could just be that Nico’s powers haven’t properly manifested yet, but…

…now that he thought about it, Nico’s scent was a little different from other demigods’. It was like another stronger scent was constantly masking his – which was actually a good thing, seeing as it had kept him from being detected by monsters for so long. Like how Percy’s half-blood scent was concealed by his step-father’s human stink, only Grover couldn’t recognize the scent that was masking Nico’s.

Putting that aside, there was also the issue of there being another child of Big Three in their midst. Finding and losing Thalia had been upsetting, finding Percy had been nerve-wracking, add the headache that was Nico’s newly-discovered parentage and Grover was sure he’ll lose all of his fur before he reached a hundred.

Also, unlike Zeus and Poseidon, Hades hadn’t broken the oath – that much Grover was almost certain. Chiron and Nico were sure that he had been to the Lotus Casino before, it was how Nico had known that they were in trouble when he dreamed of seeing Grover and the others in the casino. He knew what the place did to people – to its victims. It keeps them unaware of the on-goings of the world outside, trapped and untouched by time – never aging. Most of the kids there had been trapped for decades and have yet to find a way out.

Grover took a moment to imagine Nico as one of those many children – so innocent and so blissfully unaware.

Which brings the question of how much time he’d spent in there and how he escaped. And more importantly, who was it that freed him.

It wasn’t Hades that much was for sure. The more Grover thought about it, the more he was convinced that Hades was the one who put Nico in the Lotus Casino in the first place – though when and why he did it was still unknown. Besides, if Hades really was the one behind Nico’s escape, then he wouldn’t be trying so hard to put him back in there.

Grover knew this because the Minotaur hadn’t been sent to kill Percy. Or to take Percy’s mom to be used as leverage against Percy or Poseidon.

The Minotaur had been on their trail since Grover and Nico arrived at Percy’s apartment. At the time, Grover had thought that it had followed Percy’s scent to the apartment like Grover did. Then it followed Grover and Nico all the way to Montauk. Grover had thought that the Minotaur was just following them, letting them lead it to its target.

He didn’t think that the Minotaur had already found its true target.

xXXx

_The Minotaur had his sights set on Nico. The beast charged at him. Nico tried to sidestep, but the monster had learned his lesson. Nico couldn’t dodge this. Percy was going to lose his friend. Its hand shot out to grab the small boy… but Percy’s mom had pushed Nico down just in time._

The Minotaur had been focused on Nico… It had been sent after _Nico_. Not _Percy_ or his mom. It had been after Nico from the very start. Hades had sent it after Nico. Hades was Nico’s father. Nico was Hades’ son. He had sent the Minotaur to take Nico.

But why? Percy had never heard of the gods sending out monsters to kidnap their own kids. What did Hades need Nico for?

_“When I saw where you guys were in the dream… I couldn’t shake off how familiar it was, like I should recognize it somehow. I knew what the place was called and what it does to people… I think…”_

_“We suspect that Nico has been there before.”_

The Lotus Casino… Nico’s been there before for who knows how long…

But how did he end up there in the first place? Did he just happen to stumble upon the place like Percy and the others did? Was he lured there by something? Did someone deliberately trap him there?

Was that someone Hades? But why? What for?

But Nico escaped – somehow. Is that why he had the Minotaur go after Nico? So that he could put Nico back in there.

Percy imagined Nico in the Lotus Casino. Carefree, ignorant and unaware of the world outside…

…trapped for days and months…

He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Annabeth was still talking. She was bravely trying to convince Hades why a war between the gods would be a _very bad idea._

Hades didn’t look happy. His eyes were narrowed in anger and his expression was murderous. “Do you think I _want_ war, godling?” The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles.

Doors burst open all along the walls and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.

Percy paid them no mind, his eyes locked onto Hades, Nico’s _father_.

“You are the Lord of the Dead,” Grover said carefully. “A war would expand your kingdom, right? ...Sir?” he added the last part hesitantly.

“A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?” Hades ranted. “Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone? How many subdivisions I’ve had to open?” He was on a roll now. “More security ghouls, traffic problems at the judgment pavilion, double overtime for the staff! I used to be a rich god. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses! Problems everywhere and I’ve got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep coming!”

“…So you actually _don’t_ want to start a war?” Percy finally spoke.

“ _No_ , godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war.”

“But you took Zeus’ master bolt…” Percy said slowly, still absorbing everything he had just learned. “…didn’t you?”

“Lies!” The room shook. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost. “Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan.”

“’His plan’?”

“ _You_ were the thief on the winter solstice,” he said. “Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus. You took the master bolt _and_ my helmet. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war.”

Yancy Academy. Mrs. Dodds was sent there by Hades. Hades just revealed another piece of the puzzle.

“But…” Annabeth spoke. Percy could tell her mind was going a million miles an hour. “Lord Hades, your helmet of darkness is missing, too?”

“Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this here – coming here to threaten me in Poseidon’s name, no doubt – to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?”

“No!” Annabeth protested. “Percy didn’t- We weren’t-!”

“I have said nothing of the helmet’s disappearance,” Hades snarled, “because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help.”

 _How can they if you keep pushing everyone away?_ Percy thought as he became more conscious of the ring chained to his neck – though to who the thought was directed at was a mystery.

“I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you.”

“You didn’t try to stop us? But-”

“Return my helmet now or I will stop death,” Hades threatened. “That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson – _your_ skeleton will lead my army out of Hades.”

The skeletal soldiers that surrounded them when they entered the throne room took one step forward, their weapons raised and at the ready.

At that point, he probably should have been terrified. The strange thing was, Percy felt offended. Nothing got him angrier than being accused of something he didn’t do. He’s had a lot of experience with that.

“You’re as bad as Zeus,” Percy said. “You think I stole from you too?”

“I _know_ you did.”

“That’s why you sent those monsters after me?”

Hades’ lips curled. “I admit to have ordered the Furies to find you, but I had nothing to do with the rest. I wanted no quick death for you – I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?”

“You _let_ us?” Didn’t Hades know about the ring?

“Return my property!”

“But I don’t have your helmet! I came for the master bolt!”

“Which you already possess!” Hades shouted. “You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could threaten me!”

“But I didn’t!”

“Open your pack, then.”

Realization struck him. Percy didn’t want to believe it, but somehow – with the weight of the backpack like a bowling ball – he knew. He slung it off his shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

“Percy,” Annabeth gasped. “How-?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t-”

“You heroes are always the same,” Hades said. “Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus’ master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now… my helmet. Where is it?”

Percy was speechless. He had no helm. He had no idea how the master bolt had gotten into his backpack. He wanted to think Hades was pulling some kind of trick. Hades was the bad guy.

But…he already said that he didn’t want a war and he even gave them – kinda – valid reasons why. He couldn’t be all that bad.

He gave Nico the ring. He put Mrs. Dodds at Yancy to watch over his son. And the Minotaur… Hades didn’t trust the other gods, so when he found out that his brother’s son was in the same school as Nico… He sent the Minotaur to take Nico… _away from Percy_ …

Somehow, to Percy, it made sense. Hades _might_ have been the one who put Nico in the Lotus Casino in the first place – it was very possible – but he doesn’t want to send Nico back. If he did, he could have done it months ago when Mrs. Dodds first arrived at Yancy Academy, when not even Chiron suspected her of being anything worse than a scary math teacher. Instead, he let Nico live out his life. It was only after the winter solstice – after his helm of darkness was taken and he felt threatened – that he tried to take Nico back.

Hades cared for his son. He couldn’t be all that bad.

Like Percy – like Zeus and Poseidon – Hades had been played. The Big Three had been set at each other’s throats by someone else. The master bolt had been planted in the backpack and Percy had gotten the backpack from-

Alright, now he was angry.

But the person his anger was directed to wasn’t there. And to kick his butt, Percy and his friends had to get out of the Underworld quick.

“Lord Hades, wait!” Percy shouted, eyeing the army of skeletons and three furies warily – the one with Mrs. Dodds’ face grinned at him eagerly and flicked her whip. “This is all a mistake!”

“A mistake?” Hades roared. “There is no mistake! I know why you have come – I know the _real_ reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for _her_.”

Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of him…

…And there was Percy’s mother. Frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death.

Percy couldn’t speak. He reached out to touch her, but the light was as hot as a bonfire.

“Yes,” Hades said with satisfaction. “I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helmet and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change.”

Percy thought about the pearls in his pocket. Maybe they could get him out of this. If he could just get his mom free...

"Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and Percy’s blood froze. "Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson."

Percy’s hand moved against his will and brought out the pearls.

"Only three," Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."

Percy looked at Annabeth and Grover. Their faces were grim.

"We were tricked," he told them. "Set up."

"Yes, but why?" Annabeth asked. "And the voice in the pit—"

"I don't know yet," Percy said. "But I intend to ask."

"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled.

"Percy." Grover put his hand on his shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt."

"I know that."

"Leave me here," he said. "Use the third pearl on your mom."

"No!"

"I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way."

"No." Annabeth drew her bronze knife. "You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting."

"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind."

"Think again, goat boy," Annabeth said.

"Stop it, both of you!" Percy felt like his heart was being ripped in two. They had both been with him through so much. Percy remembered Grover dive-bombing Medusa in the statue garden, and Annabeth saving them from Cerberus; they'd survived Hephaestus's Waterland ride, the St. Louis Arch, the Lotus Casino. Percy had spent thousands of miles worried that he'd be betrayed by a friend – because of that _stupid_ prophecy – but these friends would never do that.

They had done nothing but save him, over and over, and now they wanted to sacrifice their lives for his mom.

"I know what to do," he said. "Take these."

Percy handed them each a pearl.

Annabeth said, "But, Percy ..."

He turned and faced his mother. Percy desperately wanted to sacrifice himself and use the last pearl on her, but he knew what she would say. She would never allow it. Percy had to get the bolt back to Olympus and tell Zeus the truth. He had to stop the war. She would never forgive Percy if he saved her instead. I thought about the prophecy again. _You will fail to save what matters most in the end._

"I'm sorry," he told her. Then, to Hades, he said, "You want to bargain? Fine.”

The smug look on Hades' face faded.

“Let us leave peacefully and keep my mom alive. In return, I’ll find you helmet and return it to you personally.”

“You arrogant little-!” Hades spluttered furiously. “Do not think you can-!”

“ _And_ ,” Percy added, shoving a hand down the collar of his shirt, gripping the ring tightly, “I’ll do what the Minotaur failed to do. I’ll bring your son back to you.”

Percy showed him the skull ring.

The skeleton warriors shook at the sight of the silver trinket, their bones audibly rattling anxiously. The Furies’ malicious grins slid off their faces almost simultaneously.

On Percy’s left, Grover gave him a bewildered and questioning look. Annabeth gasped loudly. She hadn’t really spent a lot of time with Nico. It was no surprise that she hadn’t put the pieces together as fast as either Percy or Grover did. She probably still hadn’t figured out that Nico was a son of Hades yet. At most, Annabeth figured out that Hades’ son had given the ring to Percy, but not the identity of the person.

Hades, on the other hand… well, first he looked taken aback, then suspicious, then furious. “Percy Jackson…!” he growled.

“I’ll bring him to the Underworld, to _you_ ,” Percy said as he let go of the ring and let it hang from its chain. “And I won’t leave without him.”

Percy smashed the pearl at his feet. Annabeth and Grover followed suit a second later.

xXXx

Nico was sitting alone at the beach. He had his glove off and the right sleeve of his black jacket pushed up. He was looking at something on his wrist. His eyes were darkened with… grief…?

Percy’s shoes made noise when it scraped against the sand of the beach.

Nico didn’t jump in surprise – honestly, the existence of anything that could make Nico jump in surprise was both improbable and worrying – but Percy did see his shoulders stiffen. Nico swiftly pulled his sleeve up and put his glove back on before he turned around to look at Percy.

“Hey,” he said shiftily, like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. “I heard you guys just got back.”

“If you knew we were back,” Percy said, walking up his friend, “then why didn’t you come to see us?”

“And deprive the rest of the camp their chance to welcome back the heroes of the summer?” Nico said with excess sarcasm.

Percy huffed. He had to admit. The campers’ welcome had been very… welcoming. He sat on the beach next to Nico. “Grover and I got worried when we didn’t see you in the crowd.”

Nico shrugged, the movement causing their shoulders to rub against each other, making Percy conscious of how close they were sitting. “I don’t really like crowds,” Nico admitted.

Percy nodded slightly in understanding. “You should have been there to see us burn our shrouds,” Percy said. “It left me feeling oddly satisfied.”

“Aww, you burnt it already?” Nico smirked. “The Ares kids worked so hard to make it just for you.”

Percy thought back to the shroud he had been given. It was made out of an old bedsheet and had been painted with smiley faces with X’ed-out eyes around the border and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle. “I could tell,” he said dryly.

The two friends sat in silence for a few moments. Then, Percy’s ADHD kicked in. “Annabeth’s shroud was really pretty.” He remembered. It was mad of grey silk with embroidered owls. Percy had said that it was almost a shame not to bury her in it. He meant it as a compliment, but Annabeth punched him for it anyway.

Nico rolled his eyes, then sighed. “What did you come here for, Percy?” He looked at Percy with his piercing dark eyes – the ones he inherited from his father. “Did you need me for something? It must be important for you to miss out your own party.”

Percy opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish – struggling to find the proper words. Then, he closed his hand around the ring Nico had given him – a habit he had developed during the quest, a habit he would have to quit after this. “Well first, I wanted to give this back to you.” He pulled the chain over his head and took it off.

Percy was about to put it around Nico’s neck, but the other boy held out his hand for the ring before he could. Percy gave it to him and watched as he brought it down over his head and around his pale neck. Percy thought it looked better on Nico than it had on him.

“Thanks,” Nico said, breaking Percy out of some kind of trance. “For bringing this back.”

“I’m just glad to still be alive to do it personally,” Percy said honestly. “And about that party,” Percy got up and patted sand off of his trousers, “ _neither_ of us are going.”

“What?” Nico asked.

Percy held out a hand to Nico, signaling that he should get up too. But Nico didn’t take it. He got up on his own.

Percy put his hand down. “We’re leaving. Right now,” he told Nico. “I already got permission from Chiron.”

“What?” Nico repeated. “Why are we leaving? Where are we going?”

“To the Underworld,” Percy said vaguely.

“Why?” Nico asked with narrowed eyes.

“To return something,” Percy admitted. “To bring back my mom. And…”

He looked at Nico eyes.

_Dark and intense, dangerous and deadly – Nico’s eyes._

“There’s someone there who wants to see you.”

xXXx

He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling uselessly at the air.

It was better this way, Sally convinced herself. She couldn’t cross the property line. It was better this way.

“MOM!” she heard her son call out to her.

She caught Percy’s eyes – his green, _green_ eyes, so much like his father’s – and managed to choke out one last word:

“Go!”

She couldn’t breathe. Everything started to blur.

…

… “Mom?” her son called out. “Mom!”

The next thing she knew, she had her arms full of a hiccupping twelve-year-old on the verge of tears.

“Pe-Percy…?” Sally asked dazedly. A brief look around told her that she wasn’t in the rain on that hill anymore.

“There,” a deep and powerful voice spoke. “I have kept my end of the bargain. You may now leave.”

Sally turned around and gasped when saw the tallest man she had ever seen – (He was easily over ten feet!) – standing behind her in front of an onyx throne. If he was who she suspected him to be, than this would be the second Greek god she had met.

Then, she noticed Percy’s friend – the one with glasses, Nico – hovering worriedly next to them. At the same time, he was being careful to always have the god in his line of sight.

Percy, at hearing the god’s command, stiffened. Then, he slowly released Sally and faced the god. “We can leave?” he asked tentatively. “ _All_ of us?”

The god visibly stiffened. “ _He_ stays,” the powerful being said, with a bony finger pointed at Percy’s small friend.

Nico stiffened as well and turned to properly face the god.

“Then I’m staying too,” Percy announced unexpectedly. He stepped towards the god – and away from Sally – defiantly, but he kept his hand connected to hers. “I told you, I’m not leaving without him.”

The god sneered at Percy, causing Sally to step closer to her son in worry.

Before the god could say anything else, Percy spoke up. “I _just_ helped prevent a war and returned Zeus most powerful weapon to him. And I told him and Poseidon about your stolen helm too. And if I just suddenly disappear… you’d be the first suspect…” his voice trailed off at the god’s increasingly murderous expression.

“Come!” he barked before he thundered out of the room, his long black robe billowing behind him dramatically.

Nico’s eyes darted from the god to Percy to the god again before he scampered after the retreating figure.

Without the god’s imposing presence, the room suddenly felt eerily empty. But Sally didn’t let that bother her too much. There were more important matters to address.

“Percy!” she cried, drawing him into her arms again. “Oh, thank goodness. Oh, my baby.”

“Mom…” Body shaking slightly, her son hugged her back.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” she asked him. Sally pushed him back slightly to look him over. “The last thing I remember was Pasiphae’s son chasing us and we almost got you to camp and… Percy, where are we?”

Sally ran her hands through her son’s hair as Percy scanned her features with wet eyes.

“We-We’re in the Underworld,” he said shakily.

Sally took a moment to scan the grand throne room they were in and took in the skeletons standing guard at every possible exit. “Then… the man who just left was…?”

“Yeah, that was Hades,” Percy said the god’s name causally. “…Nico’s dad.”

He told her everything that happened.

xXXx

Hades reentered the room thundering like a dark storm. He looked no happier than when he’d left with Nico almost an hour earlier. Nico followed a few steps behind him at a more sedate pace.

Hades sat on his throne with a huff. Nico stopped at Percy’s side.

“You two,” he said, pointing to Percy and his mom. “I don’t want to see you again until you’re dead.”

Percy saw his mother stiffen and bow slightly in respect. Honestly, he didn’t blame her. Gods just had that effect on people. He should know, he’s met several of them this summer.

“And you,” he pointed to Nico, who went ramrod straight. Hades sighed. “Just… think about…” his eyes glanced at Percy, “what we talked about. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Nico nodded. “…Okay.”

xXXx

“I’m surprised you didn’t think I’d betrayed you.”

“What?” Percy asked. They were on the boat, on the way home. His mother was on the other side of the boat, closer to Charon, probably to give Percy and Nico room to talk to each other.

“Ha- My father told me that you used the ring to get in,” Nico said while showing Percy the aforementioned ring, still hung around his neck. “You showed Charon the ring, he let you in immediately.”

“Yeah, thanks again by the way,” Percy said sincerely.

“You got into the Underworld using a ring Hades’ son gave you,” Nico said. “And you got surrounded by Hades in his throne room. Most people would assume that Hades’ son gave you the ring to lead you into his father’s trap.”

“But you didn’t know who your father was then,” Percy excused. “You only gave me the ring so I’d have a reason to come back, which I did.”

“How can you be so sure?” Nico challenged. “How do you know that I hadn’t already figured out who my father was? That I wasn’t just following his orders to send you to the Underworld where he can kill you himself?”

_You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend._

“You wouldn’t.” Percy was sure. “You’re my friend. I trust you.”

Nico gave him a tight smile. “I hope you don’t come to regret those words.”

“There are times when you say stuff like that and times like when you told me to forget about Mrs. Dodds that make me think that you know more than what you’re telling me,” Percy admitted. “And you can scare the hell out of me with just one look.”

Nico looked Percy straight in the eye, his face unreadable.

“Am I weary of you?” And where did that word come from? ‘Weary’? It was official, Percy was spending way too much time with Nico and his audio books. “Yes. But only because I know that you’re capable of a lot more than you’d like me to think you are. Do I trust you?” Percy made sure that he was looking at Nico straight in the eyes, when he said: “ _Yes_. All the more because I know you would do everything you _are_ capable of for the people you care about – for me.”

Nico averted his eyes, instead focusing on the ring again. Percy swore he could see a light pink color dust Nico’s pale cheeks.

Percy decided to take it easy on his friend and changed the subject. “What did Hades say?”

“I asked him if he’d broken the oath too,” Nico said. “If promises really meant so little to immortals like him,” his lips twitched into a smirk, “which, in hindsight, was pretty reckless. I think I’m spending too much time with you.”

Percy chuckled at how Nico’s words mirror his earlier thoughts. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he returned the smirk.

“Hades said that he didn’t break the oath.”

“And you believed him?” Percy asked.

“Chiron told you how he thought that I’d been to the Lotus Casino before, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s right.” Nico placed the ring back under his shirt and turned to properly look at Percy. “I _have_ been there before… for decades… before the Big Three even made the oath…” Nico’s voice gradually became softer until he stopped talking altogether. His eyes shifted away from Percy’s.

“Oh,” was all Percy could say. So Nico was actually way older than Percy thought. Come to think of it, so was Grover… and Mr. Brunner… and Mrs. Dodds. Was anyone at Yancy as old as they said they were? “So your dad didn’t break the oath. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” Nico shrugged. “But _my dad_ also didn’t realize that I’d escaped from the Lotus and winded up somewhere in London until he saw me in the newspaper,” he said drily. From his tone of voice, Percy couldn’t tell if Nico was angry about that or not.

“The newspaper?” Percy didn’t know Nico had ever been in the newspaper. Now they had another thing in common.

“Yeah,” Nico mumbled, but he didn’t elaborate. He just clutched at his arm. His right one, the one that was attached to his gloved hand.

“So, how did you get out?” Percy changed the subject. “From the casino, I mean. Did you have someone help you?” Like Percy and the others did? “Do you even remember…?”

“I don’t remember much about my life before London,” Nico admitted, without looking directly at Percy. “But Hades showed me a video from a security camera, it was caught two years ago… I just appeared from the shadows in the middle of the road and got hit by a taxi in London City.”

“…You what?” Is that why he didn’t remember much? Did the taxi hit his head hard enough to give him amnesia or something? “You ‘appeared from the shadows’? How?”

“It’s called ‘shadow travel’,” Nico said, his dark eyes twinkling. “It’s kinda like teleporting. It’s something only Hades’ children can do.”

“So I can’t do it if I wanted to?”

“Nope.”

“Aw. And I’d already thought up of a list of things I could get away with if I could do that.”

The two boys chuckled.

“Did Hades say anything else?” Percy asked, a smile still dancing on his lips as he thought of a new list. It consisted of the many ways he can get Nico to use his ‘shadow travel’ to help Percy get away with stuff.

“He said he wants me to leave Camp Half-Blood and stay with him. He gave me a choice.”

Percy smile died immediately. “And what did you say to him?” he asked Nico. “You refused, right?”

“We’re here,” Charon said, cutting in. “Now get off of my boat.”

xXXx

Percy and his mom took a cab back to their apartment while Nico took another back to camp.

To say that Gabe was not happy to see them – especially Percy – was an understatement.

Percy and his mom retreated to his room just after Gabe threatened to throw Percy out. Ugh, it smelled and looked like Gabe had marked the room as his territory in their absence.

While Percy was seething and his mother worrying over how to persuade Gabe to change his mind, a package appeared on his bed.

It was a battered cardboard box about the right size to fit a basketball. The address on the mailing slip was in Percy’s handwriting:

_The Gods_

_Mount Olympus_

_600th Floor,_

_Empire State Building_

_New York, NY_

_With best wishes,_

_PERCY JACKSON_

Over the top in black marker, in a man's clear, bold print, was the address of our apartment, and the words: RETURN TO SENDER.

“Mom, do you want Gabe gone?”

xXXx

Percy moved back into cabin three, but it didn't feel so lonely anymore. He had his friends to train with during the day. At night, Percy lay awake and listened to the sea, knowing his father was out there. Maybe Poseidon wasn't quite sure about him yet, maybe he hadn't even wanted Percy born, but he was watching. And so far, he was proud of what Percy had done.

As for his mother, she had a chance at a new life. Her letter arrived a week after Percy got back to camp. She told him Gabe had left mysteriously—disappeared off the face of the planet, in fact. She'd reported him missing to the police, but she had a funny feeling they would never find him.

On a completely unrelated subject, she'd sold her first life-size concrete sculpture, entitled _The Poker Player,_ to a collector, through an art gallery in Soho. She'd gotten so much money for it, she'd put a deposit down on a new apartment and made a payment on her first semester's tuition at NYU.  The Soho gallery was clamoring for more of her work, which they called "a huge step forward in super-ugly neorealism."

 _But don't worry,_ his mom wrote. _I'm done with sculpture. I've disposed of that box of tools you left me. It's time for me to turn to writing._ At the bottom, she wrote a P.S.: _Percy, I've found a good private school here in the city. I've put a deposit down to hold you a spot, in case you want to enroll for seventh grade. You could live at home. But if you want to go year-round at Half-Blood Hill, I'll understand._

Percy folded the note carefully and set it on his bedside table. Every night before he went to sleep, Percy read it again, and he tried to decide how to answer her.

On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus' kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions.

They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. According to Annabeth, who'd seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors.

As Annabeth and Percy were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell them good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human.

"I'm off," he announced once Nico had returned from the dining pavilion with a soda pack and a can of coke in one hand. "I just came to say ... well, you know."

Percy tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying good-bye. He’d only known Grover a year, yet he was Percy’s oldest friend.

Annabeth gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on.

Nico gave him his half-empty can. “For the road,” he said.

Percy asked him where he was going to search first.

"Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan …"

"We understand," Annabeth said. "You got your reed pipes?"

"Yes, mom," he grumbled playfully.

He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway — nothing like the little runty boy Percy used to defend from bullies at Yancy Academy.

"Well," Grover said, "wish me luck."

He gave Annabeth another hug. He clapped Nico on the shoulder and shared a fist-bump with Percy, then he headed back through the dunes.

Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware.

"Hey, Grover," Percy called.

He turned at the edge of the woods.

"Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas."

Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

"We'll see him again," Nico said.

Annabeth nodded in agreement.

Percy tried to believe it. The fact that no searcher had ever come back in two thousand years ... well, he decided not to think about that. Grover would be the first. He had to be.

xXXx

July passed.

Percy spent his days devising new strategies for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares's hands. He got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava.

From time to time, Percy would walk past the Big House, glance up at the attic windows, and think about the Oracle. He tried to convince himself that its prophecy had come to completion.

_You shall go west, and face the god who has turned._

Been there, done that—even though the traitor god had turned out to be Ares rather than Hades.

_You shall find what was stolen, and see it safe returned._

Check. One master bolt delivered. One helm of darkness back on Hades's oily head.

_You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend._

Ares had pretended to be Percy’s ally, then betrayed him. That must be what the Oracle meant...

_And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end._

He _had_ failed to save his mom, but only because he'd let her save herself, and he knew that was the right thing.

So why was he still uneasy?

xXXx

The last night of the summer session came all too quickly.

The campers had one last meal together. They burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads.

Percy got his own leather necklace, and when he saw the bead for his first summer, he was glad the firelight covered my blushing.

The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares' cabin felt obliged to stand.

Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause.

Percy wasn’t sure he'd ever felt as happy or sad as he did at that moment. He had finally found a family, people who cared about him and thought he'd done something right. And in the morning, most of them would be leaving for the year.

The next morning, Percy found a form letter on my bedside table.

He knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because the god stubbornly insisted on getting his name wrong:

 _Dear_ Peter Johnson,

_If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit._

_Have a nice day!_

_Mr. D (Dionysus)_

_Camp Director, Olympian Council #12_

That's another thing about ADHD. Deadlines just aren't real to Percy until he’s staring one in the face.

Summer was over, and he still hadn't answered his mother, or the camp, about whether he would be staying. Now he had only a few hours to decide.

The decision should have been easy. Nine months of hero training or nine months of sitting in a classroom—duh.

But there was my mom to consider. For the first time, he had the chance to live with her for a whole year, without Gabe.

Percy had a chance to be at home and knock around the city in his free time. He remembered what Annabeth had said so long ago on our quest: _The real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not_

He thought about the fate of Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

Percy wondered how many monsters would attack him if he left Half-Blood Hill. If he stayed in one place for a whole school year, without Chiron or his friends around to help, would Percy and his mother even survive until the next summer?

That was assuming the spelling tests and five-paragraph essays didn't kill him before the monsters could.

Percy decided he would go down to the arena and do some sword practice. Maybe that would clear his head.

The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and makeup kits over the hill, where the camp's shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the airport.

Don't think about leaving yet, Percy told himself. Just train.

He got to the sword-fighters arena and found that Nico and Luke had had the same idea.

While Luke was really getting into chopping the heads of the straw dummies, Nico seemed to have just taken his sword out.

“Percy,” Nico greeted him when he saw Percy enter the arena.

“Hey,” he greeted in return. “I haven’t seen you around much. Have you been avoiding me?” he asks jokingly.

Nico didn’t answer him. “Can we talk?” he asked softly once Percy was within hearing distance. “I want to tell you something.” His eyes shifted over to Luke – who didn’t seem to be paying the two younger boys much attention and just continued to mutilate the dummies – and Percy understood.

Percy nodded. The two of them walked a little further away from where Luke was training and stopped at the entrance, far enough to keep Luke from being able to make out what was said.

“What’s up?” Percy asked, slightly worried at the solemn tone Nico was using.

He saw Nico open his mouth to say something. He saw Nico’s expression shift as he thought better of it and changed his mind to say something else. Nico gave him a small smirk. “It’s nothing serious. Lighten up,” he said. “Just wanted to tell you that I’ll look forward to seeing you again next summer.”

Percy took a second to understand the implications. “Oh… so you’re not staying at camp? Are you going to stay with…?”

“Yes, no,” Nico answered. “I’m going back to London, gonna attend a school over there.”

“Why?” Percy asked, voice laced with incredulity. “Why would you want to leave? You’d be safer at camp than out there.”

_He can’t help but think of the monsters that had been dead set on killing him while he was on his quest._

“You could get killed…”

_He can’t help but think of the Minotaur that had been sent to take Nico away._

“Hades might change his mind…”

_He can’t help but think of how determined Hades had been to keep Nico locked up in the Underworld… possibly forever._

_Anything could happen to Nico while he was out there alone._

“I may never see you again…”

_First Grover, now Nico was going away._

_There was a chance that… Percy may never see either of his friends ever again._

“You can’t leave,” he said desperately. “Stay. You belong here, in camp – with the other demigods.”

Nico shook his head. “Percy, didn’t you hear?” he asked, his brows furrowing. “A few hours before the three of you got back, I got claimed,” he said slowly, to make Percy understand.

A few hours before… It probably happened after Percy and the others got out of the Underworld, between his confrontation with Ares and the flight back to New York.

“That’s great…” he said hesitantly, seeing how sad Nico looked at the thought.

“It happened while I was training with the Hermes kids, in the middle of the arena…” he informed Percy. “Everyone saw the mark that claimed me as Hades’ son…”

Percy still didn’t understand what Nico was trying to tell him.

“Percy,” he said slowly when it was obvious that his message wasn’t getting through. “Everyone knows that I’m the son of the _god of the Underworld_.”

_“I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help.”_

Hades was an outcast. The Olympians – his own family – had never truly accepted him as one of their own.

It was the same with their children.

The children of the other gods were afraid of Hades – Percy still kinda was – and thought of him as evil. If anything bad happens – like, say, the King of the Gods’ master bolt going missing – he’d be the first and primary suspect.

They expect his children to be the same. That was why Nico hadn’t been at the Party when Percy returned. It was why he hadn’t seen Nico around camp as often as he used to.

“I don’t belong here, Percy.” It didn’t escape Percy’s notice how sad Nico’s voice sounded.

But there was no trace of disappointment to be found.  Nico expected them to keep their distance, to cast him aside.

“That’s not right,” Percy weakly protested.

Because as true as it was, there was nothing Percy could do to change it. Find a god’s missing weapon? Sure, piece of cake. But change others’ prejudiced views of an entire society…? Well, that might take a lot more time – time they might not have – and effort to achieve.

It’s been thousands of years and still the gods refuse to accept and trust Hades – and Hades keeps his distance and refuses to trust them in return. Even after being proven innocent of stealing the master bolt, probably no one had bothered to apologize to Hades (like maybe send him a basket of fruits and a card saying: “Sorry for accusing you of thievery. No hard feelings?”). And Hades would never expect them to.

“It’s not fair,” Percy whispered.

“Maybe,” Nico shrugged. “But there’s nothing anyone can do about it. It’s why I _have_ to leave.”

Percy could feel his shoulders droop lower.

“Hey,” Nico said in a slightly more upbeat tone. “It’s not like I’ve been _banned_ from this place.” _Yet_. “I’ll still come back every summer,” he promised. “Besides, I never planned to stay year-round. Especially with Grover gone and you moving in with your mom.”

That effectively got Percy to stop thinking about Nico’s crummy situation and start thinking of his own less important – compared to the bomb Nico just dropped on him – problems.

“I-” _Will_ he stay with his mom? What he just said were very good points, but _his mom_ … “I don’t know… even if I stay with my mom… she’ll-” …she’ll be in danger… _because of me_.

That seemed to give Nico pause, like he’d expected Percy to say that he was going to stay with his mother no matter what without hesitation. Then, he gave Percy a reassuring look. “I won’t tell you what to do,” Nico said. “But whatever you choose, whether to stay at camp or with her, I’m sure she’d understand. She’s your mother, after all.”

“Percy, is that you?” Luke’s voice suddenly cut through the arena. He was squinting at Percy and Nico’s figure through the sun’s glare. It seemed that he hadn’t even realized that Percy had arrived earlier.

“Yeah, hey Luke,” Percy greeted him amicably.

Percy took a glance behind the older boy and saw the pile of straw and dented armor that was once a row of practice dummies.

Percy was barely able to stop himself from openly gaping at the sight. He turned to look at Nico instead and he noticed that while he had been looking at the remains of the dummies, his friend was observing Luke’s weapon.

“New sword?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and steely.

And Percy could understand why. Now that Luke wasn’t swinging it around, Percy got to take a better look at it and realized how it odd it looked. It like it wasn’t made of _just_ celestial bronze-

Luke shot Nico a hard look in return, before it morphed into an unkind smirk. “Yeah, this is Backbiter.”

Percy wondered why Luke was looking at Nico like he was a criminal when-

 _“Everyone knows that I’m the son of the god of the Underworld._ ”

Oh.

“Backbiter?” Nico asked.

Luke turned the blade in the light so it glinted wickedly. “One side is celestial bronze, the other is tempered steel. Works on mortals and immortals both.”

Percy thought about what Chiron told him when he started his quest – that a hero should never harm mortals unless absolutely necessary.

"I didn't know they could make weapons like that."

 _"They_ probably can't," Luke agreed, now with his all of his attention focused on Percy. "It's one of a kind."

“Oh, really?” Nico said dryly. Luke ignored him.

Luke gave Percy a tiny smile, then slid the sword into its scabbard. "Listen, I was going to come looking for you. What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight?"

Percy hesitated, shooting looks at Nico. A part of him felt relieved that Luke was being so friendly. Ever since he'd gotten back from the quest, Luke had been acting a little distant. Percy was afraid Luke might resent him for all the attention he'd gotten. Another part of him didn’t like how much Luke was excluding Nico.

"Um… Nico and I were-”

“You should go,” Nico cut in. he turned around and started to head towards the beach. “I’ll see you later.” And he was gone.

But Percy didn’t want to leave Nico alone just yet. “I should…” he started to say to Luke, turning his body pointedly towards Nico’s retreating figure.

"Aw, come on." Luke rummaged in his gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. "Drinks are on me."

Sugar and caffeine. Percy’s willpower began to crumble.

"Sure…" he said, hesitantly. “Why not?"

xXXx

Luke and Percy walked down to the woods and kicked around for some kind of monster to fight, but it was too hot. All the monsters with any sense must've been taking siestas in their nice cool caves.

The two boys found a shady spot by the creek where Percy had broken Clarisse's spear during his first capture the flag game.

They sat on a big rock, drank their Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods.

After a while Luke said, "You miss being on a quest?"

"With monsters attacking me every three feet? Are you kidding?"

Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I miss it," Percy admitted. "You?"

A shadow passed over Luke’s face.

Percy was used to hearing from the girls how good-looking Luke was, but at the moment, he looked weary, and angry, and not at all handsome. His blond hair was gray in the sunlight. The scar on his face looked deeper than usual. Percy could easily imagine him as an old man.

"I've lived at Half-Blood Hill year-round since I was fourteen," he told Percy. "Ever since Thalia ... well, you know. I trained, and trained, and trained. I never got to be a normal teenager, out there in the real world. Then they threw me one quest, and when I came back, it was like, 'Okay, ride's over. Have a nice life.'"

He crumpled his Coke can and threw into the creek, which really shocked Percy. One of the first things you learn at Camp Half-Blood is: Don't litter. You'll hear from the nymphs and the naiads. They'll get even. You'll crawl into bed one night and find your sheets filled with centipedes and mud.

"The heck with laurel wreaths," Luke said. "I'm not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic."

"You make it sound like you're leaving."

Luke gave me a twisted smile. "Oh, I'm leaving, all right, Percy. I brought you down here to say good-bye."

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at Percy’s feet. Out crawled something glistening black, about the size of Percy’s hand. A scorpion.

Percy started to go for his pen.

"I wouldn't," Luke cautioned. "Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You'll be dead in sixty seconds."

"Luke, what—"

Then it hit him.

_You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend._

"You," I said.

He stood calmly and brushed off his jeans.

The scorpion paid Luke no attention. It kept its beady black eyes on Percy, clamping its pincers as it crawled onto his shoe.

"I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy," Luke said. "Didn't you feel it—the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn't you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics—being pawns of the gods. They should've been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they've hung on, thanks to us half-bloods."

Percy couldn't believe this was happening.

"Luke ... you're talking about our parents," he said.

Luke laughed. "That's supposed to make me love them? Their precious 'Western civilization' is a disease, Percy. It's killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest."

"You're as crazy as Ares."

His eyes flared. "Ares is a fool. He never realized the true master he was serving. If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But I'm afraid you won't live that long."

The scorpion crawled onto Percy’s pants leg.

There had to be a way out of this. He needed time to think.

"Kronos," Percy said. "That's who you serve."

The air got colder.

"You should be careful with names," Luke warned.

"Kronos got you to steal the master bolt and the helm. He spoke to you in your dreams."

Luke's eye twitched. "He spoke to you, too, Percy. You should've listened."

"He's brainwashing you, Luke."

"You're wrong. He showed me that my talents are being wasted. You know what my quest was two years ago, Percy? My father, Hermes, wanted me to steal a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides and return it to Olympus. After all the training I'd done, _that_ was the best he could think up."

"That's not an easy quest," Percy tried to convince him. "Hercules did it."

"Exactly," Luke said. "Where's the glory in repeating what others have done? All the gods know how to do is replay their past. My heart wasn't in it. The dragon in the garden gave me this"—he pointed angrily at his scar—"and when I came back, all I got was pity. I wanted to pull Olympus down stone by stone right then, but I bided my time. I began to dream of Kronos. He convinced me to steal something worthwhile, something no hero had ever had the courage to take. When we went on that winter-solstice field trip, while the other campers were asleep, I snuck into the throne room and took Zeus's master bolt right from his chair. Hades' helm of darkness, too. You wouldn't believe how easy it was. The Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is horrible. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms rumbling, and I knew they'd discovered my theft."

The scorpion was sitting on Percy’s knee now, staring at him with its glittering eyes. Percy tried to keep his voice level. "So why didn't you bring the items to Kronos?"

Luke's smile wavered. "I ... I got overconfident. Zeus sent out his sons and daughters to find the stolen bolt— Artemis, Apollo, my father, Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn't careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, threatened to return them to Olympus and burn me alive. Then Kronos' voice came to me and told me what to say. I put the idea in Ares' head about a great war between the gods. I said all he had to do was hide the items away for a while and watch the others fight. Ares got a wicked gleam in his eyes. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone noticed my absence." Luke drew his new sword. He ran his thumb down the flat of the blade, as if he were hypnotized by its beauty.

"Afterward, the Lord of the Titans ... h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helm the rest of the way—from Ares down to Tartarus."

" _You_ summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest."

"We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn't safe for you, so he would start you on your quest. We had to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked."

Suddenly, Percy was reminded of the conversation he and Nico had on their way out of the Underworld, about Nico’s ring.

_“You got into the Underworld using a ring Hades’ son gave you. Most people would assume that Hades’ son gave you the ring to lead you into a trap.”_

_“You’re my friend. I trust you.”_

_“How can you be so sure? That I wasn’t just following his orders to send you to the Underworld where he can kill you himself?”_

"The flying shoes were cursed," Percy realized. "They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into Tartarus."

"And they would have, if you'd been wearing them. But you gave them to the satyr, which wasn't part of the plan. Grover messes up everything he touches. He even confused the curse."

Luke looked down at the scorpion, which was now sitting on Percy’s thigh. "You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don't worry, I'll leave you with my little friend to set things right."

"Thalia gave her life to save you," Percy said, gritting his teeth. "And this is how you repay her?"

"Don't speak of Thalia!" he shouted. "The gods _let_ her die! That's one of the many things they will pay for."

"You're being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don't listen to Kronos."

 _"I've_ been used?" Luke's voice turned shrill. "Look at yourself. What has your dad ever done for you? Kronos will rise. You've only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest—the ones who serve him."

"Call off the bug," Percy demanded. "If you're so strong, fight me yourself."

Luke smiled. "Nice try, Percy. But I'm not Ares. You can't bait me. My lord is waiting, and he's got plenty of quests for me to undertake."

"Luke—"

"Good-bye, Percy. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won't be part of it."

He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

The scorpion lunged.

A three-foot bronze swung an arc in front of Percy’s eyes and slashed the scorpion in half.

“Nico!” Percy gasped when he saw who was holding the other end of the blade.

“Are you okay?” Nico asked him, raking his eyes over Percy’s still stiff form.

“Y-Yeah,” he answered shakily. “Luke- He was-”

“I know. I heard everything from when Luke started talking about Kronos.”

“You did?” Percy asked warily. “Nico, were you following us?” he asked suspiciously.

Nico shifted his eyes from Percy’s guiltily. “No, I‘d already reached the beach when I decided to turn around and look for you two,” he admitted. “It’s just… everyone’s been talking about how distant Luke’s been acting lately and… I got suspicious when he went out of his way to ask you to go somewhere alone together…”

Percy was left speechless.

“Anyway, that’s not important right now,” Nico exclaimed. “We need to tell Chiron and the others what happened.”

Percy looked back to the spot where Luke had disappeared. He nodded. “Yeah.”


End file.
